Out of Reach
by PancakeMassacre
Summary: Reid is kidnapped… again. Can the team find him in time? WARNING: has more than earned its M rating. No pairings but lots of whump
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Reid is kidnapped… again. Can the team find him in time? WARNING: has more than earned its M rating**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Criminal Minds. Sad, isn't it?**

**No pairings intended, but you could imply whatever makes you happy **

**Rated for violence, torture, non con, and profanity. Don't say I didn't warn you.**

**This is unbetad so there will probably be a few mistakes. ****I apologize in advance****.**

**Out of Reach**

It was one of those days.

It started with the shower. He loved his little apartment, but the very old building and even older pipes tended to fall to disrepair; and true to form, the boiler was out of commission for the next two days.

Emerging from the icy shower a very cold genius, Reid huddled his lanky frame under a fluffy towel until he dressed his shivering body in extra warm clothes, donning both a sweater vest and a cardigan over his gray dress shirt and tweed slacks. After he was properly clothed and significantly warmer, he decided to look on the bright side. At least he was completely awake now, hell, he almost didn't need coffee.

It escalated when he missed his train. He was just coming down the steps onto the platform when he saw the train depart.

_It was on time_, Reid thought exasperatedly. _It's never on time, not for the last five years._

He settled himself down on a heavily vandalized bench and pulled a copy of War and Piece from his messenger bag. At least he'd be able to catch up on some of his light reading.

He was an hour late for work, the next train having arrived nearly twenty minutes late. Reid tried to slip unnoticed into the office, hoping that no one would be paying close enough attention to realize that he was so late. He ambled towards his desk in the bull pen, glad that Morgan and Prentiss seemed to be occupied elsewhere at the moment, and settled into his desk, lifting the strap of his messenger bag over his head and resting it against the desk. He heaved a self-contented sigh, a small smile on his face as he turned in his chair

Right into SSA Aaron Hotchner.

Reid's wide eyes found the stony face of the man that loomed over him.

"You're late, Reid." Hotch deadpanned.

"Sorry, sir." He squeaked in response before launching into a mile a minute explanation of his tardiness. "Well, you see, I missed my train. It came in early, even thought it's come in seven minutes late everyday for the last five years. I didn't anticipate the break from pattern, which completely ignores Murphy's law; even though statistically 87% of manned commuter trains are on average four to seventeen minutes late, and—"

"Reid," Hotch interrupted the genius and his shpeel came to an immediate halt. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Yes, sir." Reid agreed quickly and Hotch went on his way, leaving him to a veritable mountain of paper work that sat on his desk.

At least Hotch hadn't reprimanded him, he hadn't even scolded him really, just told him not to be late again, a completely reasonable request. Reid let out a breath that he'd been holding, before starting on the paperwork that would keep him buried in mind numbing monotony until it was time to leave.

When the end of the day came around it was raining. Morgan had offered to drive him home, but he'd refused. While he appreciated the thought, it was gestures like that that made him feel like a kid, like someone the team felt they needed to look after as opposed to a colleague.

He decided to walk the two and a half miles home. It didn't rain a lot in Las Vegas, where he'd spent his childhood, nor did it in California where he'd gone to school. The cold and wet Virginia weather had been an interesting adjustment, but one that he was not particularly enjoying at the moment.

Reid made it to his apartment an hour later. He was soaked to the bone and shivering lightly, his black converse squeaking as he emerged from the stairs on the top floor (he almost never takes the elevator since that incident with Morgan) and walked to the end of the hallway to his door. He juggled the mail he'd picked up from downstairs as he rooted around in his bag for his keys before letting himself into the darkened apartment. He only made it three steps past the threshold before he knew that something was wrong.

Reid would never know what it was that tipped him off. Maybe a faint smell that didn't belong, maybe the disturbance of the air currents caused by another breathing body in the small dark space, or maybe he could just sense the foreign presence. Whatever it was, it felt like a cold fist clenched in his gut that sent adrenalin coursing through his veins. The mail fell to the floor, forgotten as his hands flew to the gun at his hip.

A Louisville slugger beat him to it.

He heard a faint whoosh as the bat swung through the air, then felt a blinding pain as it smashed into the hand that had landed on the butt of his Glock not a millisecond before, breaking his hand and deeply bruising his hip where the gun had been driven into his pelvis.

Reid cried out and doubled over, clutching his mid section and cradling his right hand to his chest as his left fumbled to remove the gun from the holster, which was easier said than done since it was designed for a right hand draw. The bat slammed down on his back and sent him to the hardwood floor. He freed the gun from its holster and fired twice in the direction of the dark figure above him. He hoped that at least the sound would bring his neighbors running but remembered that the Jacobis next door were on a vacation in Florida and Ms. Jenkins in the apartment below was traveling on business more often than she was home.

The gun was knocked from his hand with a well aimed kick that sent his gun skittering across the floor and into the thick shadows. His attacker ran for the firearm, but Reid brought him to the floor with a hard kick to the knee. He scrambled on top of the intruder, attacking him with the first solid thing his hand found, which happened to be a blue flower vase that JJ had given him as a house warming gift. The man recovered quickly and deflected the vase and sending it shattering to the floor. Reid made a mental note to apologize to the blond liaison if he survived this ordeal.

They grappled on the floor for a few moments and Reid sized up his opponent. His attacker had over fifty pounds on the lean doctor and soon over powered him with a kick that sent Reid hurtling backwards into the small table by the entryway, his head smashing into the framed mirror above the table which shattered on impact.

Reid felt warm blood run down the side of his face from a cut on his forehead as he scrambled to his feet and pawed at the wall for the light switch, desperate to avoid fighting in the dark.

The lights flickered on just in time to see the fist that slammed into his jaw. Reid saw stars for a moment, fighting to stay conscious before the baseball bat slammed into his ribs. He screamed as he felt two of them break and cried out again when his impact on the floor jarred them. Reid could feel his attacker looming over him as he tried to crawl away, his unbroken hand reaching for his messenger bag and the cell phone that lay within it, desperate to call for help. To call for his team.

He heard the sickening thud of the baseball bat impacting the side of his head and felt a blinding pain erupt in his skull before the darkness swallowed him whole.

* * *

"Has anyone seen Reid?" Morgan called to the bull pen, coffees in hand.

Prentiss looked up from her paper work and looked towards the genius's empty desk. "No, I haven't seen him today," she said accepting her coffee from Morgan.

"Me neither, I figured he'd be here by the time I came back from the coffee run," Morgan said, a worried frown gracing his handsome face.

"He's not in yet?" Hotch asked, startling both Morgan and Prentiss who hadn't seen or heard him walk up.

Morgan examined Reid's desk, it looked untouched from last night. "Doesn't look like it." He pulled out his cell phone and hit Reid's speed dial. It rang seven times then went to the recorded voicemail message. "This is SSA Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm unable to come to the phone right now, but if you leave your name and contact information I'll return your call at the earliest opportunity. Thank you."

Morgan would have to talk to the kid about that long winded message. "Reid, where the hell are you? Call me as soon as you get this." He closed his phone and saw Prentiss dialing Reid's home phone. She shook her head and hung up.

"It's out of service." She informed them grimly.

"I don't like this," Morgan stated, his voice deepening.

"Neither do I," Hotch agreed.

"Maybe he's just late and forgot to pay his phone bill," Rossi suggested, absently sipping his coffee.

"No," Hotch affirmed. "You should have seen him when I caught him yesterday, he wouldn't be late two days in a row."

Morgan went to Garcia's office and found the techno goddess merrily typing away. "Baby girl, I need you to trace Reid's cell phone for me."

"Spying on my junior G man are we?" She teased with a smirk.

"Just do it Garcia." Hotch ordered, following Morgan into the room.

Garcia's face fell. "Oh god, what's wrong? What going on?" She panicked.

Morgan soothed her with a warm hand on her shoulder. "It could be nothing, but we need you to find Reid's cell phone for us."

She nodded rapidly, "I can do that. I can do that." Garcia attacked her keyboard and a minute later she had a map of the city up on her screen. "242 West Haven."

"That's Reid's apartment." Morgan stated. Hotch nodded, his cell phone to his ear. He hung up.

"He's still not answering." He met Morgan's uneasy gaze.

"I think we should check it out."

"I agree," Hotch said, stowing his cell phone in his pocket. "I'll drive."

* * *

Hotch knocked authoritatively on Reid's door. "Reid, open up."

Nothing.

He rapped on the door again but was once again greeted with silence.

"Here, I've got a key." Morgan stepped forward, flipping through his key ring. They made it a habit of giving a spare key to at least one member of the team for situations such as this one.

Morgan unlocked the door and pushed it open. The sight that met them stopped them in their tracks.

"Holy Shit." Morgan swore as he took it all in.

"Signs of a struggle." Hotch stated the obvious. Morgan almost laughed to himself; it looked less like a struggle and more like a knock-down drag-out fight. The table immediately next to the door had been broken and over turned, a side table by the couch knocked out of its usual place. Various bills and junkmail littered the floor along with the shattered remnants of what Morgan recognized as the blue vase that JJ had given him over a year ago and the bloody shards of a mirror.

"There's blood." Morgan stated quietly, squatting by the mirror shards and studying the blood on the floor. There were both smears and fat gravitational droplets. It was enough to worry him but not enough to take someone out. He heard Reid's voice in his head telling him that the average person could loose a liter to a liter and a half of blood before they were incapacitated.

Morgan looked up to find Hotch examining scratches in the wood floor when something beneath the threadbare sofa caught Morgan's eye. He fished Reid's Glock out from under the couch, sharing a meaningful look with Hotch before ejecting the magazine and feeding the bullets into his hand.

"Two are missing." He said before reloading the magazine.

"I'll call in a crime scene unit." Hotch pulled out his phone and began dialing while Morgan searched the rest of the apartment. It was untouched, ruling out robbery, but even more disturbing was the fact that there was no sign of Reid.

The automatic coffee maker had an untouched pot on its cradle, the clothes he wore yesterday were not in the laundry hamper and his alarm clock was still sounding a gentle shrill. Morgan stepped into the small living room lined with floor to ceiling bookshelves and sank onto the comfy brown couch that he'd sat on many a time before, rubbing his stubbly head with his hands. A framed picture caught his eye. It was of the team on Reid's twenty fourth birthday, the kid wearing the ridiculous birthday cake hat, shy smile donning his face. It brought a small quirk to his lips, but it was quickly washed away by the gravity of the situation. "Where are you kid?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry this chapter is so short, I promise they'll get longer.

* * *

When Reid drifted into consciousness the first thing he was aware of was the blinding pain in his head, and the feeling that his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. He was laying on his back on a hard surface, his arms up over his head for some strange reason.

He struggled to crack his eyes open then immediately regretted it as a bright white light assaulted his retinas. His stomach did another summersault and he immediately turned onto his side, only to be obstructed by painful bindings on his wrists. He was still able to turn enough to vomit over the side of what his brain told him was a table. He painfully settled back onto the table and sucked in greedy gasps of air that sent a pulsing fire through his ribs. They were probably broken and he defiantly had a concussion.

Why was he lying on a table? Why were his wrists bound? And why the hell did he feel like he'd been hit by a truck?

His attack came to him in disorganized snippets. He remembered a baseball bat in the dark, JJ's blue vase being smashed, a struggle on the floor and then nothing. His aching brain went into overdrive. Memory loss is common in concussion victims, but is generally more associated with moderate to severe concussions. Reid knew his wasn't severe since he wasn't in a coma, but he had been unconscious for a while. He'd just thrown up nothing but bile, but he'd been attacked less than five hours after having lunch with the team, not to mention the three cups of coffee he'd had after that.

He gingerly opened his eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the piercing light above him. He turned his head and found that the motion was an incredibly bad idea, making his brain feel like it would explode and the room spin. He clamped his eyes shut with a small whimper as he tried to breathe through the pain. After a moment, Reid pried his lids open again and took in his surroundings, being careful to move only his eyes.

What he saw made him wish he hadn't.

He was shackled to a wooden table in the center of a dingy room without windows. He began to hyperventilate when he saw that the walls were lined with various tools, most of which he had seen throughout his career at the BAU, and he immediately recognized their purpose. Torture.

He closed his eyes and focused on breathing, trying to calm himself down, but the stale air of the room had a distinctive metallic taint to it that Reid knew with a certainty bred from years of experience to be the smell of old blood and a lot of it.

His still-spasming stomach plummeted and his chest seized with fear when he heard the screech of a door opening. His eyes shot open and he saw a man dressed head to toe in nondescript black clothing, wearing both a facemask and white rubber gloves. The man said nothing as he went and chose a knife from the wall, a box cutter, and glided over to the trembling genius.

"No, please." Reid choked out as the man cut the buttons from his shirt (his coat, vest, cardigan, shoes and socks having evidently been removed while he was unconscious) and exposing his pale, bruised skin and lean body to the harsh light.

"Stop," he pleaded as the unsub ran his latex covered hands over his chest and down his stomach, making sure to tease his fingers over each nipple and the hollow of his navel. "Don't touch me!" Reid squirmed weakly under the hands.

The hands disengaged and set about cutting the rest of the shirt from the genius' body. Reid flinched and hissed when the knife sliced into his arm as the man cut down the sleeves.

After the shirt had been completely removed, the unsub returned the box cutter to the wall and chose another tool and went back to the table. Reid whimpered and squirmed when he saw the long, serrated bread knife.

"No! No, please!" Reid struggled against his bonds, trying to get away, but they were unrelenting steel. The unsub rested the serrated tines against the ivory skin of his heaving chest, just under his left nipple, then abruptly pressed down, cutting into the delicate skin before dragging it slowly over, leaving a long messy cut in the flesh.

Reid screamed. He'd been cut before, between his clumsy nature and high risk job it was bound to happen. It was always quick, over before he was really even aware it was happening. But this was maddeningly slow and deliberate, the serrated blade overwhelmingly painful. His scream dissolved into pained gasps before reigniting as another even longer cut was dragged across his stomach. The unsub continued until there were six bloody cuts over his torso, and tears were streaming down Reid's bloody face.

Reid sobbed when the unsub leaned over and ran his sticky tongue over the cut across his abdomen, an inch below his navel. He lapped up the coppery blood and relished at how Reid writhed and cried out. He brought his hands up to steady the doctor's hips before forcing his tongue inside the wound, using his teeth to pry the jagged edges open.

Reid let out a long ragged scream at the both the all-consuming agony and the vicious invasion, his back arching up from the table as the man rhythmically thrust his tongue into the layers of muscle as if it were a twisted form of felatio, until the pain became too much for his injured brain to process and he sank into the darkness.

* * *

Prentiss crossed the crime scene tape, her credentials displayed for the agent guarding the door. Morgan watched her eyes widen as she saw the mess and then her struggle to maintain control of her emotions. He understood completely how she felt, he'd had the same problem himself; it was almost impossible to view the crime scene and think like a profiler when all he could see was Reid.

"What do we have?" Prentiss asked, clearing her throat and hardening her resolve.

"We've got obvious evidence of a struggle," Hotch intoned pointing at the broken and disarrayed items strewn across Reid's usually clean floor. "The broken vase, the mirror, the table." Hotch paused, "and we've got blood."

Emily examined the blood on the floor. "Is it…?" Her throat threatened to close up and she left the end of her sentence hanging.

"It's Reid's," Hotch confirmed her half voiced suspicion. "We don't have DNA yet, but crime scene techs matched the type. It's AB-, too rare a blood type to assume that it isn't Reid's."

Prentiss nodded. "Okay, walk me through it."

Morgan stepped forward. "Alright. The fact that this went down directly in front of the door and the mail scattered all over suggests a blitz attack."

"The unsub was waiting for Reid when he came home," Hotch finished.

"Were there any signs of forced entry?"

"The lock on the front door looks like it's been picked," said Hotch "and the phone line's been cut."

"This guy took a big risk here," Prentiss though aloud. "Even with a blitz attack, Reid was armed."

"We found Reid's piece under the couch with two rounds missing." Morgan pointed to a plastic evidence bag containing Reid's bureau issue Glock 19 and two small manila envelopes holding the two shell casings. "One went into the ceiling," he pointed to a medium sized bullet hole in the plaster above them, "and the other is unaccounted for. We would assume that it's either in the attacker or…"

"Or in Reid." Prentiss finished, frowning as she looked at the blood on the floor.

"There's not a lot of blood here." Hotch voiced what she'd just been thinking. "Even if this was from a bullet wound it would probably only be a graze."

"And we have no reason to believe that this blood came from a gunshot wound," Morgan crouched by the broken glass. "If I were to guess, I'd say it was a glass wound."

"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," Emily said flatly. There has a moment of heavy silence.

"We found a baseball bat!" one of the crime scene analysts called to them, pulling a wooden bat from under the dining room table. He turned it in his hands, "There's blood on it." He called again before bagging it in a large brown paper bag and sealing it.

"I really doubt the bat's Reid's," Morgan said, his voice deep and full of stress. "So the attacker brought it with him."

"So the unsub is waiting for Reid when he gets home," Hotch started, going through the scene. "He surprises him. Reid drops everything in his hands and presumably goes for his gun."

"But he only gets off two shots, one of which goes wild," Morgan said gesturing to the ceiling.

"No, not wild," Hotch says, looking up at the bullet hole directly above him. "He's on the ground firing directly up at his attacker." He pantomimed firing a gun at the ceiling.

"Okay, so Reid comes home and is surprised by his attacker," Emily steps in. "There's blood on the light switch so he must have turned it on at some point after the initial attack, so its dark when he gets blitzed."

"He comes out of the darkness and hits Reid with the bat, knocks him to the floor where he pulls his gun and fires up at the unsub. One goes into the ceiling the other into the attacker?" Morgan asked.

"It would seem that way, but the only blood here is Reid's." Hotch supplied.

"Okay, so maybe a vest? Or maybe the other shot truly did go wild and we haven't found it yet."

"But he did only get off two shots, so the unsub must have disarmed him." Emily pointed out.

"Right," Hotch affirmed, kneeling next to the broken vase and examining the scuff marks on the hardwood paneling. "Then they struggle on the floor, someone either grabs or knocks over the vase and it gets smashed in the fight."

"Then the fight gets taken over here by the entry way, where they break the table." Morgan asserted. "And if the blood on the mirror is Reid's then we can assume that he got thrown over here, breaking the mirror and the table and falls here." He gestured with his arms to the patch of floor where the glass and blood is concentrated. Morgan sighed and took a step back, shaking his head as he looked at his friend's coagulating blood. "Whatever went down, Reid put up one hell of a fight." He said, a grim pride in his voice.

"He's a tough kid," Hotch affirmed. "Now we need to find him."

* * *

I'm not entirely sure where this story is going. It sort of evolves as i write it, wich is really different for me. Im usualy a meticulus planner when it comes to writing, so i am way open for suggestions on this one.

I have about half of the next chapter written, so it shouldnt take too terribly long to update, although school starts in a few days and I have sixteen, I repeat SIXTEEN, textbooks this semester. So i might get a bit busy, but i will make every effort to keep a decent updating pace.

Happy monday,

PancakeMassacre


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys, thanks for the reviews!**

**It's been a crazy first week back at school. I'm taking 15 units again this semester so i'm back to being crazy busy. Anyways, here's chapter three.**

* * *

The three profilers marched doggedly into the BAU before splitting up to inform their colleagues of Reid's abduction. Morgan broke away first, heading to Garcia's office.

He entered without knocking to find her perched in her chair eager for news. Her bespectacled eyes widened when she saw his somber face. "Please tell me he's okay."

He sighed and settled into a chair next to her, taking her small hands into his. He looked her in the eye. "We don't know. We think he's been kidnapped again."

She went into a frenzy. "You don't know that! Maybe he was called into an emergency trip to Vegas, or he's just ditching work, or he's been recruited to be a CIA spy and he can't contact us because of confidentiality—"

"Penelope," Morgan interrupted her nonsensical ramblings. "There was evidence of a struggle at his apartment. Somebody took him, and believe me the boy didn't want to be taken."

"Oh my God," Garcia had to fight to keep herself from hyperventilating.

"It's gonna be okay, baby girl," he soothed her. "We'll get our genius back, I promise." A small smile quirked his lips, "we always do."

She let out a weepy giggle. "Yeah, we do."

Morgan's expression grew somber. "I'm gonna tell you something that you're not gonna like to hear, but you have to promise that you wont panic."

"What is it?" Tears once again glistened in her eyes.

Morgan let out a sigh, "there was blood at the scene, and before you freak out, it wasn't a lot, but we matched it to Reid's blood type."

"What if the bad guy had the same blood type?" Garcia started hopefully.

"Reid's AB-," Morgan told her. "It's too rare of a type to assume that the unsub has it."

"W-where was it?"

"On the floor, on some shards of a broken mirror, and on a baseball bat we found at the scene."

"Oh my god," Garcia sobbed and Morgan pulled her into a tight hug.

"It's all right." He soothed, caressing her purple streaked hair. "We'll find him."

Garcia's computer beeped and a window popped up on the screen. They looked and saw that it was an email from an unknown address titled 'Missing something?'

Morgan jumped up from his chair and ran to the door of the office, "GUYS!" he called, summoning the team into the dark room. They came quickly, Hotch arriving first, JJ and Prentiss last. JJ looked visibly upset by the news of Reid's most recent abduction.

"What is it?" Hotch demanded, his voice deadpan.

"I just got this email from an address my computer doesn't recognize." Garcia said, gesturing to the window. The team read the subject of the email and gathered around the screen.

"Open it," Hotch said, his expression hard.

Garcia opened the email to find a video file, she clicked on the file and her screen abruptly went black. But before she could react, an image appeared on the screen.

"Oh god," Garcia whispered. JJ gasped.

It was a video of Reid laying on a table, his arms shackled above his head, each of his ankles cuffed to a corner of the table. The camera was positioned to Reid's left side, but high up enough for them to see the entire front of his body.

He appeared to be unconscious, long streaks of blood running down the left side of his face and a deep purple bruise visible on his jaw. There was a bloody hank of hair matted to the side of his head, an obvious sign of a head wound.

"He's hurt," Rossi said blandly.

Reid began to stir slightly, whimpering lightly as he came into consciousness. His eyes opened a crack and then he was launching himself to the side to vomit over the edge of the table.

"Concussion," Hotch observed.

After he finished retching, Reid lay back against the table, his eyes clamped shut and his breath was gasping and hitching in obvious pain. They watched him recover before opening his eyes again. He moved his head slightly then cried out in pain, his head injury was serious and they all shuddered at what could happen if it went untreated.

Reid opened his eyes again and began scanning the room they watched his eyes grow wide and his breathing become rapid as he took in the objects of torture.

"He's gonna have a panic attack if he doesn't calm down," said Morgan, his tone was obviously worried.

"Can you blame him?" Prentiss asked, eyes a bit wide as they stared at the screen. "Look at that room."

They heard the creak of a rusty door opening and the emergence of a man in black clothing wearing both a mask and latex gloves. The unsub said nothing, going straight to the wall and picking up a box cutter before approaching the table and cutting the buttons of Reid's shirt off, causing the young genius to whimper out a small "No, please!"

"Oh no you don't!" Morgan shouted at the screen as the unsub began to grope Reid's exposed chest and stomach, revealing extensive bruising over his lower left ribs.

"Stop!" Bile rose in their throats as he paid special attention to Reid's belly button and nipples. "Don't touch me!" Reid whimpered, fighting to escape the unwanted caresses.

The unsub picked the box cutter back up and cut the shirt away completely; they all flinched when the blade cut into Reid's bicep. The unsub returned the box cutter and grabbed another knife before returning to the table and the team saw that it was a serrated blade.

"No! No, Please," Reid cried as he struggled against the shackles.

"Sonuva bitch!" Morgan ground out but was drowned out by Reid's piercing scream as the torturer slowly sawed into his pale flesh. They watched the unsub carve six long messy cuts across his chest, stomach and abdomen as Reid screamed and cried in pain.

JJ had to visibly fight down nausea when the unsub licked the lowest of the cuts, and they all nearly lost their lunch when he began attacking the wound with his mouth. They saw Reid's spine arch as a guttural scream ripped from his throat before he crashed back down to the surface of the table, thankfully passing out.

The unsub gave the wound a parting lap before re-stowing the knife and leaving the room. The video ended and was replaced by text.

BAU,

HOW LONG DO YOU THINK LITTLE SPENCER WILL LAST?

CAN YOU CATCH ME BEFORE HE DIES?

I'LL KEEP YOU POSTED ON HIS PROGRESS.

GOOD LUCK.

"I'm gonna fucking rip this guy apart," Morgan seethed.

"Get in line," Rossi said darkly.

"From now on this is our only focus," said Hotch, murder in his eyes. He turned to JJ who was still staring at the empty screen, her skin had taken on a greenish color and her expression was shell shocked. "We won't take any cases until we find Reid."

* * *

Reid woke with a start. He tried to calm his harsh panting and heavily beating heart. It was just a dream, it had to be.

Then the pain caught up with his mind and he groaned as his abused body writhed on the bloodstained surface of the table. He clenched his eyes shut, breathing through the pulsing agony until it died down to a bearable level.

His head still ached fiercely, but the dizziness seemed to have subsided for the most part. The raw wounds across his chest and belly burned at the slightest movement. His stomach still felt like it would turn itself inside out at any given moment, but Reid couldn't tell if that was because of the concussion or his current situation, which had not improved greatly while he'd been unconscious.

Reid tried to think like a profiler but there wasn't much to go from. His captor had yet to speak a single word or show much in the way of motive other than the obviously sensual fondling that made a heavy stone of dread sink into the pit of Reid's stomach. He did _not_ like where his mind thought this was going. He just prayed his team would find him before it got that far.

His team would be looking for him, Reid had no doubt of that, but how long would it take them to realize he was missing? How long had he been in this cellar? Would he die down here without ever seeing his team, his surrogate family, again?

He pushed those thoughts away. Panicking wouldn't help him and he needed to stay strong long enough for Hotch and the others to find him.

But when the door creaked open again he felt a cold shiver of dread shimmy down his spine and his hard-won resolve wavered.

* * *

"So what do we know?"

The team sat at the round table in the conference room, all looking haggard if not outright ill. The video was playing on the big screen, muted so that they weren't subjugated to their colleague's agonized screams as they brainstormed.

"The unsub kidnaps Reid, then sends us a video of him being tortured," Emily supplied.

"The e-mail's untraceable," Garcia informed them. "The IP address was a dead end. An anonymous account."

"He's taunting us," Morgan fumed quietly.

"Yes, but why?" Hotch asked, his anguish beginning to leak into his deadpan façade. "This kind of behavior is two pronged. You physically torture one party and psychologically torment the other. What we need to determine is which is his goal and which is just an added bonus."

"The message at the end 'can you catch me before he dies,' he's challenging us," Morgan pointed out.

"And the message was addressed to the BAU, not an individual person." JJ continued. "He could just be a crazy fan of ours that wants to test us, measure his whit with ours."

"But think about the sexual nature of the torture," Rossi countered, his voice thoughtful. "The way he touched Reid, licking the wounds; it was very intimate."

"And in the message the unsub called him 'little Spencer,'" said Prentiss. "Not Agent Reid, not Doctor Reid, but Spencer."

"He's demeaning him, not using his title as a way to undermine him." Morgan suggested.

"Maybe," said Hotch agreed, then had a thought. "He could be targeting the BAU, but chose Reid for a specific reason."

"Like what?" asked JJ

"He could have a beef with the kid," suggested Morgan. "A relative of someone we caught who blames Reid specifically."

"He could have targeted Reid for practical reasons," said Prentiss. "He's the youngest on the team, we all tend to be protective of him. And by taking Reid he takes one of our greatest assets."

"Abducting Reid sends the most powerful message to the rest of us. The emotional toll alone makes him the perfect hostage." Rossi agreed.

"There could be another reason." Hotch made eye contact with Morgan and they shared an intense silence.

"Which is what?" Garcia asked, her voice small and nervous.

"That he chose Reid out of all of us because he fits his prior victimology." Morgan supplied, his voice deepening.

Hotch nodded, his face was strait but his eyes burned. "Garcia, you need to see if you can find any homicide victims fitting Reid's description. They would have been kidnapped and tortured. Start in Virginia then widen your search."

"On it, bossman!" Garcia scurried from the room.

"The rest off us are going to go through old case files," Hotch instructed. "JJ and Morgan, look at cases for anyone that would target Reid specifically. The rest of us will look for anyone targeting the team."

The team disbanded, going to their assigned tasks, desperate to find their stolen member.

* * *

The unsub descended the cellar stairs, still dressed in head to toe black, the only skin visible on his entire body were through the eye and mouth holes in his ski mask. Reid could see an almost feral gleam in the flat brown eyes that roved over his exposed and bloody skin, his gaze was hungry.

"W-what do you want with me?" Reid stuttered, his voice small, his body beginning to tremble. "Why are you doing this?"

Wordlessly the man strode the small distance to the table. Reid flinched as his latex covered hand caressed the genius's face, his fingers exploring his cheek and jaw, thumb stroking his lips. The touch was gentle but forceful at the same, leaving Reid's bruised skin aching after he's released.

The unsub walked the nearest wall and stared at it a while, considering his options. After a while he chose an instrument and returned to the table.

Reid's eyes widened in horror. "No, nonononono!" he groaned as he struggled against his shackles.

The man caressed the rusty pair of pliers up the pale skin of Reid's side, sensually slow. He walked around the table so that he was standing at the head, where Reid's hands were chained. Reid's choked back a sob when he caught the unsub's intention. "Please don't do this!" he pleaded.

The unsub clamped the pliers down on the thin line of nail on Reid's left index finger then slowly began to pull it from the nail bed. Reid screamed, eyes clenched tightly shut and back arching against the onslaught of agony. who would have thought the loss of something as trivial as a fingernail could cause a body so much pain.

"G-god, please," he gasped but he was ignored as the unsub moved on to his middle finger ripping another scream from the genius's throat as he dislodged another fingernail. Without pause he took the nail from his ring finger as well.

Reid was sobbing now, gasping for mouthfuls of air between earsplitting shrieks. His fingers pulsated with agony with ever beat of his pounding heart and he could feel hot, sticky blood on his hand.

His throat seized up as the unsub took both pinky and thumb nail, his face contorted in a silent scream. The man returned the instrument to the wall and took his time in choosing another as Reid lay gasping, trying to keep himself from slipping into unconsciousness.

The man returned with the box cutter and produced to cut away Reid's grey slacks and blue checkered boxers, the genius was in too much pain to do more than let out a weak whimper as he was exposed. The unsub ran his hands from Reid's blood stained abdomen down his thin legs, before leaning in and licking a wet line up his inner right thigh.

Reid's whining turned into a sharp cry as the unsub bit deep into the sensitive flesh. He licked at the blood that oozed from the bite mark as Reid groaned.

A latex covered hand found his shaft and the genius's squirming body went completely still. When the hand began to stroke Reid began to struggle violently against his restraints.

"No! Don't! Get off of me!" he shrieked, bucking against his shackles to disengage the unwelcomed hand. The unsub'e eyes hardened with anger at this and he struck Reid hard across the face, bloodying his mouth, before squeezing his balls tightly in one hand, making him scream long and loud, his head thrown back and spine arched.

He crashed back down in a heap to the bloody table when the merciless grip was removed. Inky blackness encroached on his vision as he lay panting and he didn't notice the unsub leave the table or come back until the crowbar came smashing down onto his thigh. He felt his femur fracture just above the knee.

He gaped like a fish for a second that felt like an eternity, his mind void of anything other than the white agony that had become his body, before letting out an earsplitting howl of sheer anguish and thankfully falling unconscious.

* * *

**Just to warn you, there will most likely be non-con in the next chapter. That seems to be where this story is going, so if you can't abide it then don't read it. Warnings will be posted on the next chapter.**

**Let me know what you think, i could use some suggestions. I'll try to post at least one chapter a week, but no promises. **

**Well, it's 2:30 in the morning. 'Night everyone,**

**PancakeMassacre**


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry this chapter took so long. I've been really bogged down with homework. Upper division english classes are difficult, who knew? I may not be able to hold up to my quota of a chapter a week but i will continue to write in my diminutive amount of free time so don't worry, it'll get written... eventualy

WARNING: non-con. If you cant handle that then skip the last scene.

* * *

Garcia came running into the bull pen, her chunky fuchsia shoes making her gate uneven. She fetched up against Morgan's desk, panting and clutching her side.

"What's going on Mama?" Morgan asked, face and voice concerned as he rose from his chair and steadied her with large hands on her shoulders.

"There's. . . another email!" She panted out, fingers clutching Morgan's tee shirt. Emily rose immediately from her nearby chair and called up at JJ, Hotch and Rossi. They came hurrying from their offices, faces ashen at the prospect of another email. Morgan felt the same way; it was this horrible conflicted feeling that churned in the pit of his stomach.

On one hand he felt a spine tingling relief to have evidence that Reid was alive, but that respite came on the back of his friend's unimaginable torture that made bile rise in his throat.

They grimly strode towards Garcia's office, standing perhaps a little closer to one another that their usual telephone booth of space. They each needed the reassuring presence of the others. With one member gone, the rest came together like plates of armor to protect the heart and integrity of the team.

They clustered around Garcia's computer screens as the tech kitten opened the email and played the video file within.

JJ let out a small gasp as Reid replaced the black screen. The rest could sympathies, the boy looked awful. He was still in nothing but a pair of rumpled grey slacks, and he was covered with a combination of old and new blood, making his too pale skin look even whiter. Bruises had continued blossom across his ivory skin, making the genius look like a patchwork of pain.

The saw Reid's breath hitch as he woke with a start. He seemed disoriented for a second before groaning in pain, his body twitching and squirming weakly on the table. He settled down slightly, sucking in deep gulps of air, his eyes closing as he fought past the pain.

"That's it kid, deep breaths," Morgan coached in spite of the fact that the genius couldn't hear him.

The shrill sound of the cellar door opening made their chests ache in dread.

The unsub descended the stairs, heading straight to the table.

"W-what do you want with me?" they heard Reid ask the man, his voice sounded small and weak like a child and hit Hotch harder than any physical blow.

Reid tried to recoil as the man reached a hand to his face. "Why are you doing this?"

The unsub ignored the doctor and continued to touch him, which made a small growl emanate from Morgan's throat. He finally disengaged and went to the wall of instruments, they all gasped when he returned with a pair of rusty pliers.

Morgan wrapped his arms around a visibly trembling Garcia and Emily and JJ clasped hands as the unsub traced the pliers up Reid's squirming torso who was groaning out a mantra of "no no no."

Rossi's hands balled into fists when he heard Reid pleading with his captor. Garcia sobbed as Reid's agonized screams filled her office causing Morgan to tighten his arms around her, his own face pinched as if in pain.

They watched their boy genius scream and sob as the unsub slowly pulled each of the nails on his left hand from their nail beds. They could also see that Reid's right hand was swollen and blue, most likely broken.

There wasn't a dry eye among them when Reid's voice gave out and he screamed in silence, head thrown back and spine bowed.

The unsub left him and returned to the wall of instruments the saw him replace the now bloody pliers and take another tool. It was the box cutter.

He returned to the table where Reid lay twitching and whimpering. He man proceeded to cut the genius's pants away; Reid was too occupied with gasping for air to fight him. Morgan and Prentiss gave heated cries of outrage and Garcia sobbed as the unsub cut away the boy's baby blue boxers. A small part of all of them had hoped that Reid would be allowed to retain that small level of dignity in spite of the dominant portion of their brains that told them that it wasn't likely. Reid let out a weak whine as he was completely exposed.

The team tensed as they watched the man run his gloved hands over Reid's bloody chest and stomach and down his long, pale legs before he appalled them all by leaning forward and running his wet red tongue up the genius's inner thigh. They paled when Reid cried out as the unsub bit deep into his flesh, blood immediately welling from the wounds to adorn the bruising skin. JJ gagged as he lapped up the blood.

All hell broke loose in Garcia's office when the unsub's hand found Reid's member, their livid shouts blending with Reid's screams to be left alone.

JJ and Garcia recoiled at the vicious backhand delivered to Reid's face as they themselves had been struck and unshed tears misted in Morgan's eyed when the genius's balls were grabbed and wrenched hard enough to rip a wailing scream out him while his back arched off the table.

Rossi winced when Reid collapsed back onto the table when the offending hand was removed, he was gasping and panting, trying desperately to stay conscious. The unsub moved back towards the wall. His posture was stiff and he was visibly angry. Before Reid had even caught his breath the unsub had grabbed a crowbar and brought it down hard over his left thigh. There was the sickening sound of the femur breaking then almost a half second of delay before a scream erupted from Reid. It ended abruptly as the boy passed out, his body going limp and slumping back onto the table.

The unsub absently tossed the crowbar into a corner where it noisily clattered onto the concrete before leaning over the unconscious doctor. Anger smoldered in their chests as they watched him molests Reid in his sleep while pressing a kiss onto his unresponsive lips. He pulled away finally and returned his tools to their appropriate places before leaving the cellar.

The screen went black and was once again replaced by text.

TICK TOCK BAU.

HE TASTES SO GOOD.

I WILL ENJOY BREAKING HIM.

SWEET DREAMS

There was a long impregnated silence in the dark room, the team still reeling from the level of agony and sadistic torture they had just seen. Hotch finally broke the silence.

"We need to get back to work," he said, voice wavering slightly. "We need to find him."

The team dispersed, taking deep breaths and dabbing at their faces with tissues as they returned to their tasks.

Fifteen minutes later they were in the round table room reviewing their findings.

"We've got nothing." Morgan said, anger and defeat in his posture. "We've been through all the old case files. There are hundreds of people with reason to hate the team and any one of them could have it in for Reid."

Hotch rubbed the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache, which, given the situation, was very possible. "This isn't getting us anywhere. We need a profile."

"There were many inconsistencies in the last video," Rossi said thoughtfully. "The way he flew into a rage when Reid resisted, carelessly tossing the crowbar when he had previously been very methodical about putting his tools in their proper places. It seems odd that someone so methodical would react so violently."

"That inconsistency was at the crime scene," Emily piped in, voicing something that had been eating at her since this clusterfuck had begun. "He had the forethought to break into Reid's apartment and abduct him without leaving a trace of himself behind, but uses something as crude as a baseball bat when he knew that Reid would be armed. He obviously has some means," she gestured to the plasma screen where still shot from the video resided. "It just doesn't make sense that he wouldn't use a gun or that he would leave the bat behind."

"Maybe this inconsistency is the profile," Rossi suggested.

"You're not suggesting multiple personalities," Morgan groaned. "'Cus that would just be too much." The team thought back upon Reid's previous abduction, not nearly as violent as this one but it had still caused lasting damage on their genius. They only hoped that they could get him through this trauma better than they had the last.

"No, I'm suggesting a split profile, one for an anger excitation rapist and one for a sexual sadist copycat." Rossi stated firmly.

"Copycat?" JJ asked, taken aback by the leap in logic.

"This guy has a reason to hate the team. It can't be a past unsub because they would either be dead or in jail, so it's probably a relative. A son or brother reenacting another's crimes while pieces of his own psyche emerge as a signature."

"So if we differentiate between what is copied and what is original we cant profile both the unsub and the guy he's copying and find them both." Emily finished.

"Exactly," Rossi confirmed.

Garcia burst into the room. "I found other victims."

"Show us," Hotch ordered, his eyes alight at the possible break in the case.

"All right, I searched all throughout Virginia and the surrounding states and found three other men abducted, tortured, raped and murdered. And look at this," She pulled up three photos on the plasma screen all of thin young men in their twenties with brown hair and hazel eyes.

"They all look like Reid," Morgan observed, speaking aloud the thought that everyone in the room was sharing.

"But these murders are recent, and they show signs of both organization and disorganization, so they would have to be the work of the copycat." Emily said, flipping through the case files Garcia had brought.

"He was practicing," said Rossi. "Reid just happened to fit his victemology."

"All right, we need to go back through all the old case files," Hotch ordered, his voice firmer now that they had a decent foot hold to go from. "Throw victimology out the window, we need to focus on the profile of a sexual sadist who abducts his victims from their homes and tortures and rapes them before he kills them. This is someone that we've caught, so his file has to be here somewhere."

The team dispersed again, and attacked their work with new vigor. They finally no longer felt like they were groping around in the dark. They had a profile on the son of a bitch, now all they had to do was catch him.

* * *

Morgan balanced a stack of files in his arms as he quickly made his way to Garcia's office. "Baby Girl, I need you to run these names for me-" he stopped abruptly when he saw the wet mascara smears on her face. He set the files down on the nearest desk and made his way to her, sitting in the seat beside hers and taking her trembling hands in his. "Penelope, everything's going to be all right."

She sniffed. "I keep trying to tell myself that, you know, being the glass half full sparkly person that I am, but-" she gave a small sob. "I read the autopsy reports on the other three victims, and I know that it's not true."

"We will get Reid back, I promise you." He told her, his brown eyes sincere as they stared into her watery ones.

"I know." She nodded vigorously. "I never doubted you, hot stuff. But even if we found Reid in the next five minutes it wouldn't be okay! What that guy did to him, what he's going to do to him, how can my baby cakes survive that?"

"Reid's strong, a lot stronger than we give him credit for, and we're going to be there for him the whole way through. We're not going to let him shut us out like after the Hankle incident."

"He's going to rape him, Derek." She said, her usually chipper voice deep and grave. "And we're going to have to watch. How can he get passed something like that? How can we?"

Morgan was silent for a moment, a muscle in his jaw twitching as he fought down a tumultuous mix rage, tears and hysteria. "We'll get him through it." His voice was uneven and slightly thick. He gave her bejeweled hand a squeeze. "Get each other through it."

She sniffed again, then nodded. "I know. I guess I just needed to hear you say it." She scrubbed the ruined makeup off of her face with a chartreuse handkerchief. "I just… it's Reid, ya know? He's so pure and innocent, it's… how could this happen to him? How could this bastard do this to him to get back at us?"

"I know it doesn't make sense and I know that Reid is the last person that we would want in this situation, but we'll find him and make him better. Focus on that." Morgan said, wiping a fresh tear from her face before pulling her into a warm hug.

"Okay," her newly determined voice was muffled in his grey tee shirt. "Should I get him flowers or balloons? Wait, what am I thinking? I'll get them both."

Morgan laughed at her thought process and felt some f the aching tension ease, if only for a little while.

* * *

Reid slowly crawled back into the realm of consciousness in spite of his attempts to stay in the embracing darkness. With the awareness came the pain, both from his abused and broken body and from his torturer who always seemed to know when he woke. Had his brain had been firing on all cylinders at the time he might have wondered why, but as it was he was too exhausted to venture a guess.

The second detail that consciousness brought to his attention was the maddening thirst, followed closely by aching hunger. His throat was bone dry and grated raw from screaming. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since he left the office, however long ago that was. He wasn't really sure how long he'd been in captivity, having been unconscious for most of it, but the stubble on his face told him that it had probably been two or three days.

He was desperately dehydrated. His lips were chapped and flaking and each breath he took reverberated pain through both his dry throat and bruised chest.

Reid wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. He'd been kidnapped before, sure, but the insanity of Tobias Hankle had been child's play in comparison to this silent torturer, and even then he had only just barely survived. He wasn't an alpha male like Morgan and Hotch, hell, he wasn't an alpha anything. He had no muscle, no bravado. He could struggle all he wanted but he was as week as a new born kitten and he knew it. He couldn't get himself out of this cellar, out of these biting chains, but the team was looking for him. He just had to have faith that they would find him before this psycho slit his throat, or something even less tasteful.

The cellar door creaked open once again and it made the genius's heart pound against his broken ribs. The unsub descended the rickety stairs and strode to the table. There was something different about his eyes this time. A darkness behind the brown eyes that made his stomach churn with a visceral fear.

The man strode purposefully to the table and without warning crashed his sour mouth against Reid's. The young agent jerked violently in surprise and began to struggle against the onslaught. The unsub mashed his lips against his even harder, and blood trickled onto his tongue as the inside of his mouth was pressed against his teeth. Reid managed to wriggle free of the kiss, and turn his head away from the unsub, but was rewarded with another savage backhand across the face that left him seeing stars.

He heard the man shuffling around at the workbench against the wall by the stairs and shut his eyes as his captor chose a new tool to torture him with. He was startled when the unsub was suddenly by the table, freeing the shackles at each ankle. He cried out when his broken left leg was jarred.

It wasn't until the man climbed up onto the table that Reid knew what going to happen next. "No, no nononono!" he whimpered, voice barely above a whisper.

The sound of a buckle being undone and a zipper being unfastened sent him into a full panic. "No! Don't!" he cried, struggling against the cuffs at his wrists.

The man lifted Reid's legs and hooked them over each of his shoulders, not relenting even as the genius bit back a scream from the rough treatment of his broken leg. "Stop!" he shouted as he felt something at his entrance. He cried out sharply as a thick finger was shoved inside of him. He struggled and gasped when another was added and began to painfully force him open. The digits were abruptly removed and he felt something larger than a finger pressing against him.

"No! Stop! PLEASE!" The man ignored his pleas and pushed forward. Reid screamed as the unsub forced his large latex covered erection into his unprepared body, he felt things inside of him rip at the harsh intrusion and warm blood dripped down his thighs. He writhed as the man withdrew then shrieked when he slammed violently into him again. Tears fell from his eyes and cries and sobs escaped his lips as the unsub tore into him at a hard and fast pace.

As a criminal profiler he knew just about every fact there was to know about rape, he'd seen both the act and the aftermath and had thought that he'd had a more than workable understanding of it. It was one of the most effective forms of psychological torture, more about power and dominance than sex.

He'd been completely wrong. It was agony.

Reid felt himself tear more and more with every rough thrust until his passage was lubricated with his own blood. It felt like we was being split open, rent in half like a gruesome medieval execution or a biblical punishment. Had he somehow incurred the wrath of god? He tried to think but his massive mind was bogged down by the fear, adrenalin and pain.

He prayed that the man would come quickly and release him from this hellish embrace, but time dragged on and it felt like hours before the unsub was panting above him. He felt the thrust become uneven as he leaned over Reid and bit deeply into juncture between his neck and shoulder as he came deep inside him.

Reid whimpered as the unsub withdrew his spent cock and climbed off of the table and secured the agent's ankles to the table again before departing, leaving the genius in the cold, dark cellar in a quivering bloody heap. The tears continued to stream down his face and Reid could no longer contain the sobs that hitched in his chest. He tried to shift his battered body to find a more comfortable position but was immediately halted by waves of pain radiating up his spine. He writhed and wept as every one of his injuries made themselves before had he felt so filthy and broken. He settled back down with a small whine as the agony passed before succumbing to exhaustion and fading into unconsciousness.

* * *

I really like Morgan/Garcia fluff. I just love how these two characters interact, but if it's too much I can ease off. I hope this chapter clears up some of the mystery behind the unsub, but there's still more to learn.

These chapters seem really formulaic to me but I cant get around it. I'll try to spice it up a bit in the next chapter.

Lots of angst planned for the next chapter.

Until next time,

-PancakeMassacre


	5. Chapter 5

Hi everyone, I am so so sooooo sorry for taking so long to update. Thank you for all the reviews, I really enjoy reading them :)

Anyway, heres the chapter i promised, I apologise in advance. When you get to the end you'll know why.

* * *

The team sat about the round table as they sifted through mounds of files, hundreds of old cases. Boxes of half eaten Chinese takeout clustered at the center of the table. They hadn't left the office in two days, but food took a back seat on the list of priorities as they searched through the files looking for their unsub. It was just as well, every time they looked at a pair of chopsticks they thought of their missing genius.

JJ was asleep on the couch, papers still gripped in her hands as she dosed. They didn't wake her; Hotch had suggested that they start sleeping in shifts soon anyways.

Rossi's eyes ached as he leafed through what seemed like the millionth case file in the last few days. He gulped down another sip of the strong black coffee they'd been chugging and felt the bitter liquid burn its way down his esophagus.

"This could be a viable candidate," Prentiss said from across the table. Her voice was weary and her eyes were bloodshot. "Theodore Olson kidnapped, tortured and murdered five people in Tulsa before we apprehended him in '07." She skimmed further down the papers in front of her. "Says here that he had an uncle that swore revenge at the trial."

"It's not Olson," Hotch said without looking up from his own file. "He didn't rape his victims and there was no sexual component to the torture."

"And if I recall correctly the uncle died not to long after the trial," Rossi added before taking another sip of from his FBI mug.

Morgan sighed. "This bastard has to be here somewhere."

"He is," Hotch affirmed. "We just have to sift through this shit and find him."

"Yeah," Morgan closed his eyes and scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his head. He could hardly blink without seeing Reid's naked and bleeding body writhing on that table.

"Guys," Garcia said tentatively from the door.

"What is it, mama?"

"There's another email." Her face was ashen and her eyes were watery.

"Bring it up on the plasma." Hotch said, there was a grudging undertone in his voice that Rossi interpreted as fear. Emily roused JJ from the sofa as Garcia brought the email up on the screen. She settled into the chair beside Morgan who took one of her hands as the video began to play.

They watched Reid slowly drift into consciousness with a few weak whimpers. He looked ghastly pale and the bruises and old blood stood out garishly on his skin. He barely moved when the cellar door creaked open except to open his bloodshot eyes as his torturer approached him.

There were cries of outrage when the unsub abruptly and violently kissed the genius. Hotch balled his fists in fury, but a sour weight in the pit of his stomach told him that this was going to be far worse than the previous videos.

Reid wriggled free of his captor, but the entire team jumped when he was struck across the face. Garcia's hand convulsively tightened in Morgan's, whose eyes shone with hurt at the unfocused look on Reid's face as he reeled from the blow.

The unsub left the table and went to a workbench across the room and rummaged through a drawer. Their hearts froze in their chests when the light gleamed off of the foil wrapper of a condom.

"Oh god! Oh god, oh god," Garcia sobbed, burying her face into Morgan's shoulder.

The bottoms dropped out of their stomachs as they watched the unsub remove the shackles at Reid's ankles and climb onto the table. JJ wept silently as Reid finally realized what was happening and began to weakly struggle, whining out pleas for his captor to stop.

The unsub ignored him and rolled the condom onto his liberated erection. There would be no evidence left behind. It was something else to add to the profile, but the profile was the last thing on Hotch's mind when Reid cried out in pain.

Reid's gangly legs had been positioned over each of the man's shoulders and due to the angle of the camera they couldn't see exactly what the man was doing to their genius but they could all guess from the motions of his arm between the boy's legs and Reid's pained gasps.

Rage boiled up in Morgan's chest, seemingly hot enough to vaporize his blood, but it was dampened by an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. He would have to watch his best friend, his brother, be raped and tortured in high definition but couldn't save him from the agony. It was the worst kind of hell watching while Reid remained just out of his reach.

They collectively held their breaths when they saw the unsub move into position. "No! Stop! PLEASE!" Reid cried before the man pushed forward, forcing himself into Reid's body.

Garcia's eyes were leaking tears so heavily that her vision of the screen blurred, thankfully depriving her of the sight, but nothing could drown out the scream of agony that came from her baby's lips. JJ was in much the same boat. She hunched in her chair, curled around herself as her body shook.

Emily couldn't look away. It was like a train wreck; so horrible, so gruesome that she sat frozen in shock.

Rossi, Hotch and Morgan forced themselves to watch every second. They would bare witness to every brutal thrust, every tear and every scream and sob of agony even if it drove them mad and brought them nightmares for years to come. They would stand silently by their colleague and friend even though they couldn't save him from this torture.

It seemed to go on forever, and they felt an overwhelming sigh of relief come over them when the unsub pulled away from the genius and climb off of the table. But their relief was violently cut short at the sight of the blood dripping down Reid's groin and thighs. There was no denying the damage that had been dealt onto their youngest member.

The unsub made sure to carefully return the restraining cuffs to each of Reid's ankles before leaving him alone in the dim cellar. Morgan's chest sized as they heard the heart wrenching sobs coming from the genius. They watching him try to shift position only to be quickly bogged down by the pain. He wept for several minutes before finally crying himself to sleep, causing tears to prick behind the eyes of everyone in the conference room.

Morgan sat agape, his eyes shining with tears he refused to shed. In that moment he would have given anything, absolutely anything, to wrap his arms around Reid and tell him it was okay.

The screen went black before it was replaced by text again.

BEST I EVER HAD

There were several seconds of stunned silence in the room before it was abruptly broken by Morgan who let out a mighty growl as he overturned the round table in rage, sending papers careening across the floor. The silence immediately returned as he sank back into his chair, his head in his hands.

"We should all take some time to put ourselves back together then get back to work." Hotch said softly, but his muted voice was loud and clear in the soundless room. They dispersed, eyes glassy and distant like zombies as they numbly walked about the office which was nearly deserted.

Rossi tried to talk to the still fuming Morgan, but was brushed off. "Don't! I can't…I just… I need to shoot something!" He announced finally and hurried out of the office.

Hotch found him in the bureau shooting range fifteen minutes later burying nine millimeter slugs through a nearly obliterated target. From the amount of brass shells on the floor at the man's feet, he'd already gone through at least four magazines. He wore neither eye nor ear protection.

He waited until Morgan spent his magazine and was reloading before he approached. The dark man dutifully ignored him.

"We'll get him back," Hotch said evenly.

"I know," Morgan didn't look up from the shiny brass of the bullets he was forcing into the magazine.

"Reid's a strong kid, he'll get through this." Hotch tried again.

"Mm-hm" Morgan affirmed, replacing the magazine in his bureau issue Glock and releasing the slide.

He went with a different tactic. "There was nothing you could do, Morgan." The large man's frame immediately stiffened and Hotch pushed further. "We're doing everything we can, you can't blame yourself."

Morgan carefully laid his gun on the small shelf in front of him before turning to face Hotch, eyes narrow and livid.

"Everything doesn't seem to be enough, does it?" he said with venom.

Hotch's eyes narrowed as he observed hi colleague. "No, it doesn't" he said finally. "But we're only human, Morgan. If you want this to be over today then pray for a miracle."

"I gave that up a long time ago," Morgan snorted.

Hotch had had enough. "Look Morgan I get that you're feeling helpless. Watching Reid suffer like that makes you feel impotent and, being an alpha male, it's killing you. But you need to stop. There's nothing that you can do other than what you're already doing. If you need someone to blame then blame me. As unit chief, Reid's safety was my responsibility."

"Hotch," Morgan sighed in defeat.

"I know," He said catching the other man's eye and sharing something within that contact that neither could ever put into words. There was a complete understanding between them, each looking into the other's brown eyes and seeing the shadows there that so matched their own. It was a masochistic mixture of guilt and pain and self loathing that would have driven either to their knees, but together they knew they had a fighting chance. They had a goal that needed to be fulfilled.

And that goal was finding Reid.

* * *

Emily found JJ in the women's restroom splashing water on her face, scrubbing off the fine line of mascara that had run down her cheeks. She looked up at her through the mirror.

"Waterproof my ass," she attempted to make a joke but it fell flat.

"Yeah," Prentiss said, voice also flat as she handed the blond a handful of paper towels from the dispenser. She watched as JJ wiped the tear tracks from her face and politely waited until after she'd blown her nose until speaking. "You can't do this to yourself JJ."

JJ gave a half hearted smirk. "I forgot that horrible things don't get to you."

Prentiss sighed. "We've seen a lot of horrible things. You can't let them eat at you like this."

All traces of humor left JJ's face as she stared at Emily, her expression deadly serious. "This is different Emily."

Prentiss swallowed the lump in her throat. "You're right," she said after a moment. "This is different. But we still can't let it break us; we have to stay strong for Reid."

JJ sniffed, accepting another towel from Emily to blot at the fresh tears. "I know, it just… it's Reid. It's not some random person that I've never met, not some faceless victim, it's Spence. And I can't… I don't know how to…"

"I understand" Prentiss took JJ's trembling hand in one of hers. "We all feel that way, but we can fix all this by catching the unsub and getting our genius back as quickly as possible."

JJ nodded, wiping the last of the tears from her cheeks and giving the brunet an affirming, if somewhat watery, smile. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

Morgan knew exactly what he would find when he opened the door to Garcia's office and he was not disappointed.

His techno goddess was sitting on the floor, her back against the desk, knees pulled up to her ample chest, bawling her eyes out into a fuzzy stuffed animal. A pink cat, he thought vaguely.

He closed the door behind him before easing his tired and sore body onto the cheep industrial carpeting beside her. He gently wrapped his arms around her and she turned so that her face was buried in his chest.

They stayed like that for some time. He didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. He just held her as she cried, shedding a few unbidden tears of his own.

* * *

Another twenty minutes later they were back in the conference room, which had been restored to proper order with help from the night custodians who were eager to help in any way that they could to find the missing doctor. They feverishly worked through file after file with renewed conviction. Garcia came in with dried tear tracks on her face carrying a full pot of coffee in one hand and a basket full of muffins in the other.

Time had crept by and it was now in the wee hours of the morning thus, in Garcia's mind, an occasion for breakfast foods. She busied herself refilling everyone's mugs and dispensing muffins, receiving grateful smiles and muttered thank yous.

She nearly dropped the pot when Rossi jumped up from his seat. "I think I got it!"

"What've you got?" Hotch demanded his attention completely focused on the older man. There was an excited edge of tension in his voice.

"Seth Walker, abducted five women from their homes in Detroit before torturing, raping and murdering them." Rossi announced quickly to the team, splaying out crime scene photos for everyone to see. "He fits our profile of a sexual sadist and his MO is consistent with our unsub."

"Says here that Reid was the one that figured out his location and was part of the raid on his house when he was arrested." Prentiss read from the file.

"I remember that case," Hotch said and Morgan nodded.

"I remember that he had a brother that made a bunch of noise at the trial."

They followed quickly behind Garcia who made a mad dash for her office. Once they got their they found her furiously typing.

"Garcia I need you to find out which prison Seth Walker's in." Hotch instructed.

"Already on it bossman!" there was more typing before a window popped up. "Oh, it looks like Walker was executed by lethal injection ten months ago."

"That was a week before the first victim," Prentiss observed.

"Then we've found our stressor," Hotch confirmed. "Garcia I need you to find everything there is on his brother."

"On it, sir."

* * *

"Are you telling me we've still got nothing?"

It had been hours since finding the identity of their unsub and Garcia had used every resource she had only to come up empty.

"I've got plenty on Gregory Walker up until after his brother was executed and then nothing. He fell completely off the grid," Garcia explained. "I don't understand. People don't just disappear like this."

"Damnit!" Morgan sighed, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

"From what we can tell, Gregory Walker wasn't smart enough to pull something like this." Hotch observed, looking at the computer screen over Garcia's shoulder.

"Okay, so maybe Seth Walker set something aside for him," Prentiss brainstormed. "Money, a clean car and instructions on how to duplicate his crimes."

"Except they weren't clear enough for Gregory to follow, so elements of his own MO come out in the crimes." Rossi supplied.

"That still leaves us with nothing," Morgan pointed out.

"He couldn't have set up shop too far away, could he?" JJ asked.

"Reid was gone for nearly a day before we even knew he was missing," Morgan said solemnly. "And there wasn't a timestamp so who knows when these videos were taken."

There was a pause long enough for JJ to look crestfallen before Garcia interrupted the discussion.

"Guys?" She called and they gathered around her. "There's another email."

They watched her click on the new message window to open the email and click on the video. The screen was immediately filled with the image of Reid on the table apparently unconscious, his eyes red and puffy from the tears they'd seen him shed.

"Oh god," Garcia whispered when she realized what she was seeing. "This is a live feed."

Their stunned silence was fractured by the screeching of the cellar door.

* * *

Yeah, sorry about the cliff hanger. I personally hate them, but their so goddamn fun to write... :/

The story is going to start to pick up from here out. I'm excited. But unfortunatly for all you Reid sympathisers, he doesn't get found in the next chapter either. I know, im horrible, but it's just too much fun messing with the boy.

Until next time, (which will hopefully won't be as long a wait as last time)

PancakeMassacre


	6. Chapter 6

Hey guys, Thank you so much for all the reviews! Sorry about the cliffy and the wait, hope the chapter makes up for it.

This chapter contains non-con and even more violence just to warn you.

* * *

"_Oh god," Garcia whispered when she realized what she was seeing. "This is a live feed."_

_Their stunned silence was fractured by the screeching of the cellar door._

After descending the rickity stairs, the unsub went straight to his sleeping captive and landed another hard smack across his face which roused him with a jolt and high whine.

Reid's head felt like it was going to explode. Between the concussion, dehydration, hunger and the constant battering it felt as though his immense brain should be leaking out of his ears.

The team watched their genius reel from the blow and noticed the drawn and sunken cast of his already slender face. He looked like death warmed over.

Panic rose in their throats when they saw the unsub head to the tool bench again. They new what was coming this time but it didn't make it even a little bit easier. Evidently Reid thought so as well because when he saw the unsub rummaging through the drawers again he whimpered and tugged weakly at his restraints.

He let out a sob when the unsub returned with another condom and unshackled his feet. He tried to fight him off, he truly did, but he found that he was too weak to talk let alone struggle.

JJ dry heaved into a trashcan as the unsub climbed onto the table and spread the Doctor's legs, headless of the fact that one of his femurs was fractured. He unzipped his pants and rolled the condom onto his hardening cock before running a gloved hand up Reid's bloody and bruised body.

"Stop," Reid managed to gasp out but was quickly silenced by the unsub's hard mouth on his own as he was violently kissed. The man kissed a trail down his neck and sucked at the bloody bitemark left behind from their last encounter, drawing another whimper from Reid.

He licked his way up the boy's neck and roughly grabbed a handful of his messy curls and jerked his head slightly to the side. Reid thought it was just to get better access until his blurred vision caught sight of something mounted to the wall near the ceiling. It was a video camera and the red light above the lens meant that it was recording.

"Your team sees everything I do to you," the unsub whispered into his ear. He gave Reid a half second to digest the gravity of what he'd just been told before viciously thrusting inside him.

Reid's spine bowed as he threw his head back and screamed long and loud. He could feel all of the wounds inside of him rip open and bleed afresh as the unsub cruelly tore into him.

The team felt their hearts seize in their chest when they saw Reid's eyes settle on the camera for the first time. After the unsub's whispered statement they watched the horror of the dawning realization spread across the genius's face before the unsub ripped into him and his features contorted in agony as he screamed.

The unsub began a brutal rhythm that tore sharp cries from Reid with every thrust, but what haunted the team most was that the boy's eyes would always stray back towards the camera to look directly at them. The despair they saw there shocked them almost more than the rape. The anguish of knowing that his team, his family, had watched everything made something inside of him break.

After another eternity, the unsub was finished and climbed off the table and refastened the shackles at Reid's ankles, headless of the pool of blood that had formed between Reid's thighs, before leaving the cellar.

Reid's eyes lingered on the camera before closing in shame. They heard his breath hitch once before he let unconsciousness take him.

Reid's anguish was almost too much to bear and it cut into the team to know that they couldn't stop it, couldn't save him from this horrible fate.

Hotch swallowed thickly before clearing his throat, it sounded suspiciously like he was trying to keep his breakfast down. "This is a live feed correct?"

"Y-yes sir," Garcia stammered through her tears.

"Can you track the feed?"

"Track it?" She repeated numbly before snapping out of her shock induced fog and realizing what he'd just asked her. "I could track it! I'm going to do that."

She began furiously typing, her hands flying across the keyboard. "Damnit!" she exclaimed after a while.

"What is it babygirl?" Morgan asked, leaning on the desk beside her. "Can't you track it?"

"Oh, I can track it," she huffed. "but he's bouncing the signal around all over the place."

"Can you get a location?" Asked Hotch.

"With some time," she said biting her lip. They all looked at the crumpled form of their unconscious genius.

"Reid doesn't have a lot of time," Rossi said softly.

"Don't say that!" JJ snapped, her blue eyes flashing with anger. "He's strong. He'll get through this."

"I didn't mean it like that, JJ" Rossi replied gently. "I just meant that he's become dangerously dehydrated and lost a lot of blood. We need to get him medical attention as soon as possible."

JJ's episode appeared to have passed and her eyes were now sad and watery. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," he pulled her into a short but comforting hug. "I understand."

"Garcia trace the signal," Hotch ordered. "Rossi's right, Reid's running out of time."

She nodded gravely without looking away from her screens. Morgan dragged another chair up next to hers and settled in for the duration as everyone else left to clear their heads.

* * *

Three hours later.

"How's it coming baby girl?" Inquired Morgan as he set a fresh cup of coffee beside her keyboard.

"This sonuva bitch rerouted the signal through half a dozen cities so far, but I'll find him" she answered without looking away from her screens, her face was set and determined. Her tears had dried to grayish tracks of salt on her cheeks.

"I know you will," he confirmed. "There aint nothing you can't do."

A small smile flickered across her face. "If Reid were here he'd say that 'aint nothin' is a double negative."

A wry smile twisted Morgan's kissable lips. "Well, we'll just have to find him so that he can go on correcting my grammar."

Garcia's eyes were suddenly glistening with tears as she turned her face to look at him. "I'm trying Derek."

He instantly realized his mistake and reached out to catch a lone tear that spilled down her cheek. "Shh, baby girl, I didn't mean it like that. Everyone knows that you're doing everything humanly possible. You'll track this guy's feed and we'll bring our boy back." He said gesturing with his chin to the monitor that served as their one way window into Reid's torment.

She followed his gaze and took in the sight of the unconscious genius. "Yeah," she said after taking a deep breath, "we'll bring you home."

Garcia quickly wiped at her eyes before continuing to type at a furious pace, determined to keep her promise and bring her baby home.

Ten minutes went by with the only sound being tapping of the keys beneath Garcia's fingers when suddenly there was a low moan. Their heads immediately shot up to the top screen as they saw Reid begin to stir. Morgan ran to the door, "GUYS! GET IN HERE" he yelled to the rest of the team, most of whom had been attempting to catch a little sleep. They roused from their makeshift beds and ran to the techno goddess's office.

Reid moaned as he slowly clawed his way to consciousness, his body had become one great throbbing agony, pulsing to the beat of his nearly stuttering heart. He wasn't going to be able to hold out for much longer and he knew it.

A hazy muddle of statistics rattled off in his brain. A person couldn't go more than three minutes without air, three days without water and three weeks without food, give or take. Reid wasn't sure how long he'd been chained to the cursed table but it had to have been longer than three days. He should just close his eyes and go back into the darkness; he was usually terrified of the dark but now it provided him with a sanctuary from the pain that wracked his frame. It would be so easy to just close his eyes and die in his sleep, to escape from this wretched place.

His eyes skimmed passed the camera on the wall and he knew that it wouldn't happen. He couldn't give up when his team was undoubtedly going through hell to find him. He owed them more than that.

The screech of the cellar door sliced into both Reid and the team's brains, filling them all instantly with dread.

The unsub, Gregory Walker, slowly approached the table before reaching out to caress gloved hands over Reid's stomach. He languidly trailed his fingers over the doctor's navel and over the delicate arches of his hip bones before paying extra attention to the raw and bloody wound across his abdomen. He traced the rough edges left behind by the serrated blade and Reid let out a small whimper of pain.

The unsub disengaged from his captive and went to peruse his torture chamber. Reid closed his eyes, feeling a sudden wave of apathy settle over him. His abused body had been through so much that he doubted that whatever the maniac came up with could be worse than what he'd already suffered through.

He would be proven so so wrong.

The unsub wheeled over a small cart with what looked to be a battery jerry-rigged to both a switch and a timer. "Oh shit," Morgan said numbly, eyes wide as they regarded the cart's contents.

Reid winced and whimpered as the unsub reached between his legs and roughly attached alligator clips the sensitive skin of his scrotum, the tiny teeth digging into the thin flesh. "Oh my god, omygod omigodomigodomigod," Garcia blubbered as she watched the appalling sight before her an every man in the room cringed in sympathy.

The unsub fiddled with his contraption briefly before flipping what looked to be an old light switch. Burning agony ripped though Reid's groin before spreading throughout every molecule of his body in under a millisecond of time.

The reeled as they watched their youngest member's body writhe and arch in agony as the current traveled through him. The sight was accompanied by the most gut wrenching and primal scream any of them had ever heard and it made their blood run cold to hear it pass through Reid's lips.

And then it suddenly stopped. Reid collapsed back onto the bloodstained table gasping and wheezing for air. The unsub said nothing as he watched him regain his breath before flipping the switch again.

Like before, the change was immediate. Reid screamed long and loud as his muscles spasmed as the current tore through him. Emily held JJ's hair as she heaved into a wastebasket. The switch was thrown again and Reid slumped onto the table, his chest hitching and his body covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

The unsub adjusted the timer attachment before running a fond hand through Reid's wet locks and leaving the basement. After a minute had passed there was a faint click of the timer activating and both rooms were instantly filled with Reid's screams.

"The sonuva bitch left it in an automatic timer," Hotch fumed, his eyes livid.

"Bastard's leaving him to die," Rossi affirmed softly.

The screams were replaced by pitiful whimpers as the timer automatically switched off. Reid's watery eyes found the camera and looked to be silently begging for them to make the pain stop, to take the agony away.

"GODDAMNIT!" Morgan roared as he buried his fist into the cheep industrial plaster.

"Morgan, calm down," Hotch ordered. "We need to find Reid and we can't do that if you're flying off the handle."

Morgan closed his eyes and took several deep breaths forcing his rage to disperse. He grimaced as Reid began to scream again.

"We need to get him out of there soon," Prentiss said after a minute as she regarded her panting teammate on the screen.

"Guys?"

"He needs a hospital before he succumbs to dehydration," Rossi said blandly. "He's already stopped sweating."

"I know, Dave" Hotch said, running a hand through his short cropped hair in frustration.

"GUYS!" Garcia called, frantically gesturing to the blinking window on her screen.

"What is it Garcia?" Hotch demanded, somewhat annoyed with her interruption.

"I've got a location! I found Reid!"

* * *

Goddamn. Another cliffy. Sorry guys.

Next chapter brings on the comfort. I know you guys have been eagerly anticipating it so i'll try to post by the end of the week.

Good luck on midterms my fellow students!

-PancakeMassacre


	7. Chapter 7

Hello. Thank you for all the great reviews! You guys were really freaking out about that last cliffy. Here's the next chapter

* * *

"_I've got a location! I found Reid!"_

Hotch was instantly at her side. "Show me."

Garcia brought up the window on her screen and focused the digital map on the little red beacon that indicated the origin of the signal. "He's still in Virginia."

"That's a half an hour's drive," Rossi observed.

"Not with me behind the wheel," Morgan said determinedly, fishing the keys to one of the bureau SUVs from his jeans pocket.

"Garcia, JJ, stay here and get local authorities to that location." Hotch ordered then suddenly cringed as the timer went off again and Reid's agonized screams filled the room. "Everyone else with me!" He concluded forcefully before marching out the door, the rest of the team hot on his heels.

They piled into the black SUV and, as Morgan promised, set out at a breakneck speed with the lights flashing and the siren wailing. After several near misses they rolled up the drive of the address Garcia had given them, everyone except the driver clinging to the 'oh shit' handles above the doors as they screeched to a stop.

Several county sheriff's vehicles littered the street in front of the ramshackle house before them. Two uniforms approached them and Hotch held out his credentials.

"I've got an injured agent on the property," Hotch started without greeting or introduction. "Is the premises secure."

The senior officer shook his head. "SWAT set off a small explosion when they rammed the front door. We think the whole place is booby trapped and we have to wait for bomb squad to get here."

"Shit, was anyone hurt?" asked Rossi.

"A few minor injuries, no fatalities." The sheriff replied with obvious relief.

"We need to get EMTs into the cellar." Hotch was in no mood for pleasantries. "My agent's life depends on it."

"We haven't secured the building, there could be traps." The officer looked honestly dismayed, "we can't send in EMTs."

"Then we'll go in ourselves," Morgan said resolutely. "I've got bomb squad training."

Hotch's dark eyes were determined. "I'm with Morgan. Rossi and Prentiss stay here and monitor the situation. If that bastard's still here, I want him found."

Rossi pushed the clear plastic ear piece into his ear. "We'll keep in contact via radio."

Hotch nodded as he and Morgan stripped off their jackets and strapped on their vests before heading around the side of the property towards the cellar, guns in hand. Hotch furtively grasped the rusted door handle and briefly made eye contact with Morgan before pulling it forcefully open. The both felt shudders run down their spines as they heard the god forsaken shriek of the hinges in person. They cast a brief glance toward Rossi and Prentiss who watched anxiously from ten feet away before descending into the darkness

Morgan entered first, gun drawn and pointed forward, index finger resting against the side of the matte black barrel of his Glock. Hotch followed closely behind, carefully navigating the steep, decrepit stairs. Morgan halted them abruptly before they reached the sixth step.

"There's a wire here," Morgan announced quietly in the dim darkness. There was a soft light coming from the bottom of the stairs and it filtered weakly up the narrow enclosed staircase but it was enough to just barely see the sheen of a metal wire stretching across the expanse of the sixth step.

"Avoid this step," Morgan instructed. "Bomb squad will neutralize this later."

Hotch did as the larger man ordered and they continued their descent down the fourteen steps without incident. It wasn't until they reached the bottom that they could see the full extent of the room and when their shoes hit the dusty cellar ground, neither could suppress a gasp. They were inside of the nightmare.

Rusted tools hung from the walls covered with malicious dark stains and a nauseating metallic smell permeated the stale air that caught in the backs of their throats and clung there. It was almost like they could taste it. On the far side of the underground room was a large wooden table and on it was their missing genius, looking as if he were asleep with closed eyes and a slumped posture.

"Reid!" Morgan called out and made as if to run across the room, but the sound of a small click made Hotch grab the back of his vest and pull him back just before he reached the kid. The timer activated itself and they watched Reid's entire body seize up, his muscles spasming as he bucked off the table. He threw his head back in a raw agonized scream as his thin back arched.

They stood stunned for half a second before rushing to the contraption on the cart and flipping the switch. Reid collapsed gasping back onto the table in a boneless heap with the smallest of whimpers. Hotch and Morgan were instantly at each of Reid's sides coaxing him into awareness.

"Reid! Reid, open your eyes," Hotch ordered, carefully placing a hand on his thin and relatively undamaged shoulder. Reid flinched away from the touch and whimpered, refusing to open his eyes.

"Reid, it's me, kid, it's Morgan," the dark man soothed, gently cupping the genius's bruised cheek. "Open your eyes pretty boy."

Reid's bloodshot eyes fluttered open to see two blurry faces before him. "Mo-Morgan? Hotch?" He ground out as he gasped for air.

"Yeah, kid, we're here. You're safe now." They saw Reid's shoulders slump slightly in relief and thin tears filled his eyes.

He closed his eyes and took in a shuttering breath through his raw throat. "Hurts," he whined weakly.

"Shh, we know, Reid." Hotch attempted to sooth his subordinate as he traded misty glances with Morgan. "We're going to get you out of here."

"Reid," Morgan waited before the doctor opened his eyes before continuing. "I'm going to get these things off of you. I need you to stay calm, okay?"

Reid gave a small nod before closing his exhausted eyes again. Morgan moved further down the table and took a steadying breath before reaching a hand between Reid's bloody thighs and unclamping the alligator clips from Reid's testicles. He hissed when he saw the burned flesh they'd left behind.

Hotch whispered comforting assurances as Reid cried out in pain and pressed his face into the rough material of the man's Kevlar vest. Morgan tossed the goddamn clips aside and took over comforting his friend from Hotch who immediately began to search the room for something to cut the younger agent's bonds.

"Shh, you're gonna be okay, Reid." Morgan reassured quietly, resting a warm hand on Reid's bloody and matted hair. Reid calmed somewhat, his body too dehydrated to produce anymore tears, and focused on breathing. "That's it, pretty boy."

Hotch returned to the table with a pair of bolt cutters and quickly set to work at freeing Reid's ankles. "Ghaaha!" Reid gasped when his broken leg was jarred by the motion of the cutters as they bit into the metal cuffs. Hotch whispered apologies as he continued to cut away the restraints, causing the boy's overtaxed body to writhe weakly.

They all breathed a sigh of relief when Reid's ankles were free and Hotch moved to the head of the table where he made quick work of the cuffs around Reid's wrists. When the boy's hands were free Hotch and Morgan gently pulled them from above Reid's head down to rest at his sides. He moaned in pain at the change of position after so long. It felt like his muscles and joints were on fire.

"It's all right, kid." Morgan took Reid's left hand and grasped it in his own, seeing the bloody nail-less fingers up close for the first time and fighting down nausea.

"We've got Reid," Hotch said into his radio. "He's alive."

"Thank god," Prentiss replied.

"How is he?" Rossi asked.

Hotch looked at the young genius laying bloody on the table, his brow furrowed in obvious pain and breath coming in ragged gasps even as Morgan tried to sooth him.

"Not good" He answered finally. "He need's medical attention."

"They haven't cleared the EMT's yet," Rossi informed the team leader. "It might take a while."

Hotch sighed heavily. "I need you to scrounge up some blankets and some water. I'll collect them from the top of the stairs."

"On it." Prentiss confirmed.

Two minutes later Hotch carefully climbed the stairs, avoiding the trip wire, accepted a black FBI duffel bag from Rossi at the top of the stairs.

"There's a trip wire on the sixth step," Hotch informed the older man. "When bomb squad gets here tell them it's their first priority."

Rossi nodded. "I'll take care of it."

Hotch descended the stairs again. He kneeled on the floor by the table before unzipping the bag and pawing through its contents. There were two thick woolen blankets and four bottles of water.

Hotch grabbed a blanket first and draped it over Reid's exposed body, covering him from chest to feet, then added another to help ward off the chill of the damp cellar. He then pulled a bottle of water from the bag and shared a wordless glance with Morgan who gently lifted Reid's head and shoulders enough to drink.

"Small sips," Hotch instructed as he carefully rested the rim of the bottle against Reid's bloody lips and tipped some of the contents into his bone dry mouth. The boy greedily gulped it down and Hotch let him drink a quarter of the bottle before pulling it away. Reid whined in protest but Hotch reassured him that he'd get more in a few minutes. Morgan eased him back onto the table.

After ten minutes had passed, Reid had made his way through an entire bottle without being sick and was starting on his second. The water seemed to revitalize him somewhat and made his breathing easier.

During a break between drinks he shifted his body on the table, seeking a more comfortable position, when wave of pain swept wracked his frame and bogged down his efforts. Reid cried out and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as his muscles involuntarily writhed and spasmed. Morgan gently scooped him into his arms and carefully held him as he gasped and whimpered into his muscular chest.

"I've had enough of this waiting," he said heatedly after Reid had quieted some. He laid the still twitching genius back unto the table before going to the wall of tools and taking a pair of wire cutters.

"What are you doing?" Hotch demanded as he simultaneously comforted Reid. "We should wait for bomb squad."

"Are you really willing to wait any longer?" asked Morgan, fire in his eyes. "We need to get him out of here."

Hotch deliberated for a second before making his decision. "Do it."

Morgan immediately set off towards the stairs, using a mirror he'd picked up from the tool bench to examine the small bomb under the ledge of the step from all angles. It was a simple trip wire connected to what looked like a hand grenade with the handle pinched down by a zip tie around the middle of it. The wire was attached to the pin with next to no slack in the cord. It would be simple to dismantle as long as he put no tension on the wire while he cut it.

Morgan took a deep breath to steady his hands and checked to make sure that the wire cutters were sharp enough to do the job. Though they were stained with old blood that had begun to corrode the metal slightly, they were in good working order. The blood was for intimidation but the bastard made sure that his tools would be able to perform for his next victim. Morgan ground his teeth at the thought. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on this monster.

He steadied the wire with one hand on the pin and as gently and quickly as possible, snipped the thin metal cord. He had a split second flashback of his entire life; the taste of his mother's cooking, the sound of his sisters' laughter, the smell of Penelope's fruity perfume, the feel of Clooney's soft fur and Reid's shy smile. Then the millisecond reverie was over and replaced with an enormous rush of adrenalin, just like back in his bomb squad days. Most of the people on the squad were adrenalin junkies, cheating death to get to the next high. He almost missed it. Almost.

He dismantled the disarmed device. "It's done, Hotch" Morgan said as he hurried back into the cellar to his two companions. He saw a perceptible line of tension ease from the set Hotch's shoulders. Reid was only just barely conscious, his eyes almost impossible to keep open and exhaustion weighing heavily on his taxed system.

"He's losing consciousness," Hotch stated quickly. "We need to get him out of here _now_."

Morgan nodded. "Reid," he called, gently rousing the genius with a hand on a relatively uninjured patch of his chest. "We're gonna getting you out of here, but I'm going to have to carry you out. It's going to hurt."

Reid swallowed and weakly nodded. Even that minimal amount of movement was enough to make his see stars, he couldn't imagine what being picked up and carried would feel like but he wanted out of that goddamn basement no matter what the cost.

"Morgan disarmed the bomb," Hotch announced into the radio. "We're bringing him out now."

Morgan lifted Reid's shoulders up off of the table, as if he were helping him take a drink of water, then slipped a hand behind his back. He tucked another arm beneath his knees, apologizing softly when it ripped a cry from Reid's throat. He gave a small word of warning before he hoisted the boy off of the table and cradled him against his chest like a bride. Reid stifled a scream into Morgan's tee shirt clad shoulder.

Hotch tucked the blankets around Reid's trembling body and they quickly set out for the stairs.

Rossi and Prentiss were waiting for them at the top flagging down the EMT's to come to Reid's aid.

"Oh god," Prentiss intoned when she caught a glimpse of their boy genius who was only just barely clinging to consciousness. They watched as his eyes suddenly rolled back into his sockets and his breath let out in a shaky sigh as he passed out.

"Get a medic over here NOW" Hotch screamed towards the officers clustering around the house. The authoritarian ring of his voice brought a team of paramedics rushing towards them with a gurney.

Morgan gently laid Reid down onto the backboard and reluctantly relinquished possession of their genius. The EMT's began to hastily check him over, starting an IV line to replenish his obviously depleted fluids and they quickly ushered him towards the ambulance.

"What's his name, age, blood type and allergy history?" The tall EMT asked hurriedly.

"Agent Spencer Reid, 26. He's blood type AB- and he's allergic to sulfa." Hotch answered quickly. It was his job to know the medical history of each member of his team. The paramedic nodded his understanding and helped his partner hoist the gurney into the back of the bus.

"I'm riding with," Morgan declared, jumping in the back beside the gurney. The paramedic looked as though they were going to argue but the dark set of his expression made them think twice.

"We'll follow behind you" Hotch affirmed. He turned toward the sheriff who was watching the events from several feet away. The bomb squad was just now rolling up the drive. "I'm leaving you in charge of this crime scene, but this is federal jurisdiction. My people are coming to process the scene."

"Understood," The officer nodded before leaving to debrief the bomb squad arrivals.

The ambulance was off and the rest of the team piled into the black SUV and followed quickly behind on their way to the hospital.

* * *

Okay everybody, here's the deal: I have no idea where to go from here, and have very little planned out for the up coming chapters. I'm wide open for ideas. I know you've all been eagerly anticipating a huge pile of comfort and I don't want to disapoint. Suggestions are very welcome.

It's strange that dispite all the horrific torture, Reid is actually not hurt that badly. I could use some brainstorming help.

Thanks all,

PancakeMassacre


	8. Chapter 8

Hi guys. I'm sorry it took so long to update, I have no adequate excuse :/

Thank you for all the wonderful reviews! It helped imensly and i've got the rest of the story all planned out. I'm back on track and really excited.

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The ambulance pulled up to the ER loading bay and the paramedics quickly began unloading their patient, Hotch and the team arriving just behind them with a blatantly illegal parking job. The EMTs were met with hospital staff and Reid was soon ushered through the double doors of the emergency room with Morgan at his side. They were about to enter another set of double doors when a doctor in blue scrubs stopped him.

"You can't go beyond this point. If you stay in the waiting area a nurse will bring you updates."

With a determined cast to his dark eyes, Morgan pulled his credentials from his pocket. "I'm staying with him."

Before the doctor could argue Hotch and the others pushed through the ER doors and came forward. Hotch had his credentials displayed. "I'm supervisory special agent Hotchner. These are agents Morgan, Prentiss and Rossi. Your patient's name is SSA Dr. Spencer Reid." He gestured to each agent in turn. "The man that abducted my agent is still at large and Agent Reid goes nowhere without a member of my team present."

The Doctor seemed flustered for a moment before he conceded. "All right, but only one for now."

"That's fine," Hotch said and looked pointedly at Morgan who nodded. They were getting uncannily good at silent communication, being able to convey 'be there for him and keep him safe' in just a glance.

They set off through the double doors and down the hall to a trauma room, disappearing from sight. A nurse in purple scrubs handed Hotch a clipboard of papers and they settled into waiting room chairs.

Hotch was just finishing filling out the forms when JJ and Garcia arrived. Both blonds looked terrified as they hurried towards the agents.

"How is he?" JJ demanded.

"We haven't heard anything yet, we've only been here for about fifteen minutes." Rossi explained.

"He didn't look good when we brought him in," Hotch said honestly. "But Reid's a fighter he'll pull through this. Morgan's with him now."

"That's good" Garcia said with some relief. "If anyone can get Reid through this it's my chocolate god."

Hotch's cell phone rang.

"Hotchner" he answered, there was a pause. "Are you sure?" another pause. "Yes. I understand." He hung up and looked up at his team. "The unsub wasn't on the property, he's still out there."

Prentiss sighed. "He's got more than a two hour head start."

"We'll find him," Rossi reassured. "He'll make a mistake, they always do. But in the meantime we need to keep Reid safe."

Hotch nodded. "We'll set up a rotation schedule. Someone has to be with Reid at all times. There's six of us. After Reid's been settled we should take two man eight hour shifts."

JJ pushed her unwashed hair away from her face. "I don't know about you but I don't think I'll be able to let him out of my sight for a while."

"We may not want to leave the hospital but we still need to catch this bastard," Hotch observed.

"Garcia do you think you can set up a system here?" asked Rossi.

Penelope thought about that for a minute. "Probably not, but I can remote access my system in Quantico from my laptop."

"Is that legal?" Prentiss inquired.

"Doesn't matter," said Hotch. "Set it up Garcia, none of us are going to be willing to leave today."

* * *

Waking was like a crescendo of pain that brought him gasping and flailing into consciousness. Reid heard foreign voices all around him combined with the humming and staccato beeping of machinery. Everything around him smelled like blood and bleach and plastic and when he tried to open his eyes they were stabbed by bright florescent lights. It was all around not a comforting place.

Dr. Greenberg stopped his ministrations at the sound of his patient's moan before the thin and broken body in front of him began to twitch. He was about to resume stitching the large wound across his abdomen when the kid let out a pained gasp and began to weakly fight against the staff trying to keep him still.

"He's becoming combative," the senior nurse observed in a no-nonsense voice.

"Doc, let me try and calm him down." The dark FBI agent pleaded from the corner of the room that the intimidating nurse had ordered him to stay in while they worked so that he would be out of the way.

Normally he would have told him to remain where he was and instructed the nurse to sedate the patient, but with the head wound they were dealing with they should try to keep him conscious for as long as possible. He nodded to the Agent while holding down the patient's bucking hips in an attempt to rescue his needlework.

Agent Morgan stepped towards the table and leaned over the parked gurney to cup the patient's face and rest a hand on the soiled hair. "Reid? Reid calm down. It's me, Morgan. Just listen to my voice kid. You're safe now." To Dr. Greenberg's amazement the agent on the table stopped his thrashing and made an attempt at opening his eyes. "That's it pretty boy. You're in the hospital and these people are going to help you."

"Morg'n?" Reid rasped faintly.

"That's right, kid, it's me." Morgan nodded at the Doctor who was impatient to continue the stitches. Dr. Greenberg resumed his work with the stomach wound while nurse prepared another injection of lidocaine.

"Hurts," Reid whimpered. The lidocaine numbed him enough that he couldn't feel the needle being pulled through his skin, but he could feel the thread tugging at his numbed flesh which aggravated the other wounds. His leg was excruciating and he observed that it must have recently been set since it was now encased in a cast up to his mid thigh, the plaster still slightly wet.

"I know, Reid, but the doctors are doing the best they can. They don't want to knock you out or dope you up because of the bump on your head."

Reid nodded slightly so that he didn't exacerbate said injury. The doctor was tying off the last stitch of the abdominal wound and accepted the syringe from the nurse. "Alright Dr. Reid, you're going to feel a needle stick then some discomfort from the lidocaine before it takes affect."

Reid turned frightened eyes to the doctor holding a syringe with a large needle. "Hey, keep your eyes on me, kid" Morgan instructed, lifting Reid's chin so that he was looking into two wide hazel eyes. "You're gonna to be okay." They both knew from experience that it was going to hurt.

Reid gasped as the needle pierced his skin, his eyes squeezing shut, before crying out as the burn of the lidocaine spread across the skin over his ribs. His unbroken hand gripped at Morgan's shirt and tears leaked from his eyes. He vaguely heard Morgan's voice trying to sooth him. There was another needle stick and even more burning to cover the entirety of the wound. Reid would have screamed if his throat hadn't felt like he'd gargled glass at some point in the recent past. He writhed on the table, jarring his casted leg which erupted in a pain so fierce it took his breath away.

Dr. Greenberg watched his patient's agonized face for another second before making his decision. "This is too much. Put him under," he told the nurse who immediately plunged a syringe full of sedative into the IV.

The world began to spin and colors streamed. Morgan's voice and his own body seemed to suddenly become distant before Reid slipped into drugged unconsciousness.

* * *

Two hours later.

The team had been sitting in the waiting room in uncomfortable chairs for two hours with no word. Hotch was pacing in the isle between the rows of chairs, aggravation rolling off of his tense figure in palpable waves. JJ sat slumped with her head in her hands while Garcia rapidly typed on her laptop, the incessant tapping of the keys the only sound coming from the group. Emily sat across from the blondes, her pale face staring blankly into space while Rossi in the seat next to her sat with his head back and his eyes closed even though all of them knew that he wasn't sleeping.

They all immediately snapped to attention when the doctor in the, now slightly blood spattered, blue scrubs walked towards them. He extended his hand to Hotch. "I didn't have the chance to introduce myself before, I'm Dr. Greenberg and I'm the attending physician in charge of Dr. Reid's care."

Hotch accepted the hand. "Aaron Hotchner, Dr. Reid's supervisor and power of attorney. This is my team." He made an absent sweeping gesture encompassing the agents standing around them. "How is my agent?"

The doctor looked from Hotch to the four anxious people beside him. "We should take this discussion to my office."

Hotch nodded and they followed Dr. Greenberg to his office where he immediately gave them the lowdown.

"Dr. Reid has a fractured femur as well as three broken ribs and two broken metacarpals in his right hand. He sustained a moderate concussion that seems to be a few days old but is well on its way to healing."

He hesitated for half of a second before continuing. "Dr Reid is also missing all five fingernails on his left hand; they appear to have been removed cleanly with little damage to the nail bed so they should grow back as good as new. He has several large lacerations across his chest and abdomen which we've stitched closed but several of them as well as two class four bite wounds **(see author's note)** have become infected and this presents a big problem when combined with the exhaustion, malnutrition and dehydration. His body may well be too weak to fight off the infection at this time. We've started him on a round of antibiotics and hopefully that will keep the infection from advancing."

Tears were collecting in Garcia's eyes and Hotch looked almost as if he were swallowing a lemon.

"He has bruises and several cuts over his body, some of which required stitches, particularly the ones around his wrists and ankles. He also has third degree electrical burns to his testicular region, but fortunately they appear to be mostly surface burns and it doesn't look like the testis themselves have been damaged too badly. They will cause him a great deal of pain for the next few weeks but I expect no complications in the future.

Dr. Greenberg paused again and they could tell that he was about to say something that they were not going to like hearing. "There are also very obvious signs of sexual assault. He has several internal tears, a few of which required stitches. This will also prove to be a great source of pain for the upcoming weeks and he's going to need to keep as still as possible not to aggravate the area."

It felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. They'd seen the entirety of Reid's sadistic torture at the hands of the unsub, but hearing the damage to their youngest member read off to them made it suddenly difficult to breath.

The doctor saw the team's distress. "It may seem like a lot but none of the injuries are life threatening. Barring complications with the infection I expect a complete physical recovery. Mentally though, he's going to need a lot of help and support. His recovery will be slow and painful but I'm confident that Dr. Reid will get through it."

Hotch swallowed thickly. "What medications do you have him on?"

"We've got him on a morphine drip right now as well as antibiotics to combat the infection and fluids for the dehydration and blood loss."

Hotch nodded. The morphine was going to be an issue later with Reid's addiction, but he'd sustained too much damage for Hotch to even consider taking him off the medication. They would have to deal with the consequences as they came.

"Dr. Reid and your other agent should be settled into a room by now; I can take you to them now if you like."

"Thank you, doctor" Hotch accepted.

Dr. Greenberg led them two floors up to a quiet ward of single rooms. Upon entering the room, the first thing they noticed was Morgan sitting at the bedside gripping a pale hand in his dark one. He looked haggard with stubble forming on both head and face, rumpled clothes, and bags under his eyes.

Grudgingly, their eyes wandered to the figure on the bed and the bottoms fell out of their stomachs. Reid was still unnaturally pale except for the purple of the bruises that littered his skin and the dark smudges around his eyes. His leg was enveloped in an enormous cast and suspended by traction ropes, while his casted right arm rested on a pillow at his side. A pale blue and white patterned hospital gown and several blankets covered the damage to his body, but the bandage wrapped around his head denoted the head wound that had had them so worried.

He looked horrible, but in their job they'd seen worse and every one of the team would take horrible if it meant that Reid was within reach.

"God," JJ said faintly before taking a few steps closer to the bed and resting a small hand on Reid's arm. Garcia went to Morgan's side and sank into a chair beside him, he wrapped his free arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss to the forehead.

The rest of the team stole chairs from the hall and made themselves comfortable in the small but accommodating room. None of them could take their eyes off of Reid, almost unable to believe that he was really there after searching for him for so long.

They settled in to what they hoped would be their first peaceful night in almost a week but little did they know that there was more danger on the horizon.

* * *

A/N: Bite marks are forensically classified into seven categories. 1-2 being very mild and usually consisting of just bruising, 3-4 where the teeth have penetrated the skin and are considered ideal for forensic comparison, 5 being considerably messier with deeper wounds and tearing, and 6-7 where the skin has usually been bitten away.

That lovely note aside, I'm glad to say that there's lots more h/c to come!

Happy Passover and happy Easter everybody! I'm lucky enough to celebrate both this year :)

-PancakeMassacre


	9. Chapter 9

Hi. I know it's been a while since i've posted and I don't really have any excuse :( My apologies.

Enjoy this chapter

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It had been several hours since they'd been brought to Reid's room and the entire team had fallen asleep in their uncomfortable plastic hospital chairs with an exception of Hotch. He surveyed his team, now finally united, and couldn't help but heave a small contented smile. They were all sleeping so soundly they might as well have been slumbering in their own beds. His eyes found Reid's unconscious form and Hotch's brows furrowed. The boy looked like death, there was no denying that a great deal of damage had been inflicted on his youngest teammate, but he was determined to make this time different from the others. They would make sure that he didn't spiral down into a depression and that he didn't turn back to drugs. They would anticipate the PTSD this time and they would help him through it, making sure to catch him every time he stumbled.

He was just about to drift off himself when a pretty nurse in purple scrubs entered the room. The metallic clicking sound of the door opening was enough to rouse most of the agents in the room. She looked around abashedly, "Sorry to wake you, but I need to check up on Dr. Reid."

Hotch smiled at her wide-eyed expression as she waded through the room of armed agents. "It's no problem…"

"Nancy," she supplied with a returning smile, feeling reassured. She scooted passed Morgan and a groggy Garcia to Reid's bedside. They watched her peruse his chart before checking his monitors and his IV lines to see that they hadn't tangled before finally checking the IV placement to make sure it hadn't shifted. Morgan saw her delicate face immediately pinch into a frown as soon as her gloved fingers touched Reid's skin.

"Something wrong?" He asked, suddenly feeling a small sliver of panic rise up in his chest.

"He feels a bit warm, I'm just going to check his temperature," she said while fishing a thermometer out from the bedside table. She placed the nozzle in the unconscious genius's ear and waited for it to beep. The room grew tense as they waited. Finally the contraption sounded a low trill before Nancy looked at the digital reading and her face grew immediately serious. She walked quickly to the phone on the wall and hit pound for the front desk. "I need to have Dr. Greenberg paged to room 253" she said authoritatively, the meekness they'd seen earlier was gone and replaced by cool professionalism.

"Nancy, what is it?" Rossi, who was closest to her, asked as he caught her eye.

"He's running a fever." She answered succinctly just before Dr. Greenberg arrived.

"What've we got?" he asked her quickly, while striding towards the bed. JJ and Prentiss moved so that they could better access their patient.

"Fever of 102 degrees." Nancy stated immediately as she fell into step with the doctor.

"Shit," Dr. Greenberg cursed under his breath.

"What does that mean?" Morgan asked impatiently from the other side of Reid's bed. Garcia clung tightly to his arm, her eyes wide as she began to panic.

"It means that at least one of the infections has spread," he answered in a clipped tone as he pushed the right side of Reid's blankets away, exposing his leg. The doctor quickly removed the bandage from his inner thigh and examined the bite wound underneath. "This one looks good," he said to the nurse before he moved up to the bandage at the base of Reid's neck. "This one looks fine too." The nurse finished re-bandaging the leg wound and set to work on the neck wound while the doctor replaced the blanket over Reid's leg before pulling the hospital gown up to reveal the bandages on his patient's abdomen. He was careful to make sure that the blankets covered him from the waist down to preserve his patient's modesty.

Dr. Greenberg and Nancy removed the bandages from the Reid's chest and stomach. The nurse winced and Dr. Greenberg swore again when they got to the wound across his abdomen. "Yep, it's definitely this one," The doctor said while Nancy replaced the other bandages.

The wound stretched across his abdomen, beginning two inches below and to the left of his navel to conclude in the hollow of his right hip, and it was obviously infected. The skin around the wound was an angry red and a clear yellowish liquid was beginning to seep through the black stitches.

"We're going to need to reopen this and clean it out. I'm assuming that you're going to want one of your agents to come along?" Dr. Greenberg asked Hotch.

Hotch nodded, "I'll go."

The doctor nodded and unhooked the braces that kept the bed stationary. Nancy quickly grabbed the IV stand and they were rolling Reid out of the room. Hotch followed.

The remaining five members of the team stared after them in shock long after they'd been gone, unable to process what had just happened. They'd been so ecstatic to have their genius back that they were almost unable to grasp the concept that he could still be in jeopardy.

They returned nearly an hour later, rolling a still unconscious Reid into the room and repositioning the bed. Dr. Greenberg added another small bag of clear fluid to the IV stand. "This is a fever reducer. Hopefully between this and the antibiotics we can get rid of this infection before it spreads."

"Has he woken up at all?" Asked Prentiss, her voice filled with concern.

"Not since he was put under in the ER," the doctor answered coolly. The team suppressed a shudder at the statement, Morgan had told them about the incident. "But that's not out of the ordinary for someone suffering from both a concussion and exhaustion. His body's just trying to heal itself. I expect he'll wake up soon, but with the fever it might be a bit tricky."

"What do you mean?" JJ inquired.

"His fever is hovering at 103.2," the doctor informed them. "If it gets any higher he may very well become delirious or experience intense dreams and we'll have to ice him to bring down his temperature to keep it from damaging his brain."

"Wouldn't want that," Rossi cracked dryly.

"Right. Hopefully the fever reducer will keep it from advancing that far but he's contracted a nasty infection. We cleaned the puss out of the wound and packed it open. I don't want to re-stitch it until the worst of this infection has passed."

"What can we do for him?" asked Garcia who was gently stroking the genius's hand.

"You could try talking to him; it often facilitates patients to wake up faster." The doctor suggested.

"Thank you doctor" Hotch extended his hand.

"You're welcome. I'll check in in an hour." Dr. Greenberg shook Hotch's hand before leaving Reid in the hands of his team.

It wasn't long before the boy's face was coated in a sheen of sweat and his breathing grew labored. Garcia combed her manicured fingers through his damp hair and chatted animatedly to him, trying desperately to hide the fearful shake in her voice, while JJ bathed his flushed face with a cool, damp hand towel.

They continued this for hours before Reid let out a small whimper that immediately had every agent in the room's undivided attention. He gave a strangled moan and everyone shared a heavy glance at the fact that Reid was still asleep and apparently having fever dreams.

"Shh, you're all right kid," Morgan attempted to sooth the unconscious doctor but was rewarded by another pained whine. He began to weakly move his head back and forth on the white hospital pillow, his lips moving without uttering words.

"It's okay, darling, you're safe now," Garcia smoothed his sweaty locks from his face.

"N-nooo… please," Reid whispered through his panting breaths and damaged throat.

"You're dreaming, Reid," Morgan grasped the younger's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Come back to us,"

"Help m-me … Tobias," he rasped and everyone froze.

"Oh god," tears ran down Garcia's cheeks. "Not again. No, my baby can't go through this again."

They continued to talk to him in an attempt to wake him from his fevered delirium but none of their words seemed to sink in as he continued to whimper and plead with an invisible captor. Soon ice packs were pressed to his head, neck, under arms and the backs of his knees and the fever finally began to ease back, returning him to normal slumber.

Prentiss sank back into a chair, they were all beyond exhausted. "This is bad."

"The ice packs should help to reduce the fever," said Rossi.

"That's not what I meant," she replied pointedly.

"I know,"

She let out a long sigh. "It's just… we'd just gotten passed all the stuff with Hankle, you know? The wounds had finally healed and this bastard ripped them right open again and made them even worse."

Hotch took a seat in the chair beside her. "You're right. But at the very least we can use this as an opportunity to do it better this time. I think that if we all band together, we can get him through this."

"You really think so?"

"I do," Rossi affirmed.

Emily sighed again dropping her face to her hands before running them through her hair. "If I were in his place I don't know if I could ever recover, even with the support of the team."

"It's worth a try," Rossi said just as Hotch reentered the room and took the chair next to him.

"Any word on Walker?"

"Kevin Lynch hasn't been able to turn anything up on him." Hotch replied, his exhaustion obvious as he rubbed at his tired face. "He's going to uplink to Garcia so that she can search from here, but it looks like he's fallen off the grid again."

"What I wanna know is how this guy does it," Rossi mused. "He's not smart enough to pull this kind of disappearing act by himself, but there's no indication that he has any partners or accomplices and his profile indicates that he'd be a complete loner."

"Well, if anyone can find out, it's Garcia," Hotch observed mildly.

"Guys, I think he's waking up." Morgan called to them from the bedside, where Reid let out a weak moan. They were up and across the room in an instant.

Morgan felt the hand gripped in his twitch as the genius's eyelids scrunched without opening. "Come on, kid, wake up." Reid groaned and his hand convulsively squeezed Morgan's again.

"Open your eyes, baby cakes." Garcia gently caressed his cheek, careful to avoid the painful looking black eye.

Reid's eyes opened a fraction and immediately clamped down again from the burning overhead lights. He repeated this several times before his fluttering lids remained at half mast and his eyes adjusted to make out the familiar figures before him.

"Welcome back, Reid" Morgan gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Mm-Morgan?" he managed to slur out before his breath hitched and his face grimaced in pain.

"Where do you hurt, kid?" Morgan asked, alarmed by his friend's pain.

"Evr'where" Reid grit out.

"Right, stupid question. Where does it hurt the worst?" He clarified, needing to make it better after days of feeling helpless.

"My…umm…" The kid stammered, suddenly _very_ aware that his entire team was standing around him.

Upon seeing his discomfort, Morgan caught his eye. "Bellow the belt?"

Reid nodded stiffly.

"The doctor told us that it would bother you for a while, but that nothing down there was too badly damaged." Garcia reassured him.

"Your wedding tackle is safe, pretty boy" Morgan joked lightly.

He nodded again and winces slightly when it made his headache spike. "What…about every-…thing else" he asked, voice sounding breathy.

"Some broken bones, a concussion, over a hundred stitches, and an infection that nearly scared us all to death," JJ summarized for him.

Just then a machine by the bedside began to click and whir as it deposited another dose of morphine into Reid's IV drip. The group tensed, knowing that this was going to be an issue.

Reid's face paled even further and his eyes widened as he looked at the med dispenser. "Is that-?

"Its morphine," Hotch supplied softly.

"Morph- oh god," he seemed on the verge of panic. He turned a scared and betrayed look to Hotch. "Why- how could y-"

"Reid, your body's been through a tremendous amount of trauma." Hotch asserted, keeping complete eye-contact. "You're hurting now. Imagine what it would be without the morphine." His tone softened, "we couldn't stand to put you through more pain."

"But Hotch, I… I'm an addict. I can't… I don't know if I… have it in me to quit again." Reid admitted, his face downcast in shame.

"Reid, what makes you think that this is going to be anything like last time?" Morgan asked, drawing the boy's eyes up to his. "Not only are you on a smaller dose of a lesser narcotic, but you'll be waned off of this stuff over time. And no one expects you to do by yourself. We're going to be with you 100% of the way through this one. So just sit back and enjoy the relief."

Reid's eyes took on a distinct sheen. "I don't… I don't know what to… Thanks."

"No problem, kid" Morgan flashed his trademark smile.

"We wouldn't have it any other way, Sugar" Garcia beamed, it felt so good to have their genius back, no matter how damaged.

With the issue somewhat resolved, the morphine in his system finally became to much for Reid to ignore as he let out a shaky sigh and shut his heavy eyes.

"Get some sleep, Reid." He heard Hotch order mildly, "we'll be here when you wake up."

Unwilling and unable to defy a direct order, Reid sank into oblivion.

* * *

Soon, he thought as he watched his prey. He would have to wait for his protectors to disperse before he made his move, but he had patience. He'd left a trail for them to follow, and like the nature of all hunters, there was no doubt that they would chase it, leaving their nest vulnerable.

He just needed to continue to watch and wait for his plans to unfold before he could have him again, the beautiful little agent with the sweet blood and even sweeter tears. He was his for the taking.

Soon.

* * *

Don't you love blatant forshadowing?

Oh, and don't worry, i'm not done with the addiction conflict. It'll play a realistic role through the rest of the story.

Hopefully it wont take me as long to get the next chapter out as it did this one, but sit tight 'cus the next one's a doozy!

Happy Friday,

PancakeMassacre


	10. Chapter 10

Hello! Sorry for the wait. This chapter is nearly twice as long as the others, so I hope it makes up for my tardiness.

Thanks for the reviews!

* * *

Over a day had passed without incident. Reid was in and out of consciousness, mostly out, and very drowsy. Hotch had finally given the order that they start moving in shifts; two agents in the hospital with Reid, two at home sleeping and two in the BAU working to catch the bastard that had dared to threaten their family.

They were in the second hour of their third shift when Morgan suddenly looked up from his sports magazine, his acute perception sensing some kind of disturbance in the force. It took him a few seconds to realize that Reid's breathing pattern was off. He'd gone from slightly restricted slow medium breaths to uneven shallow ones. A small moaned "No" had Morgan up from his chair with JJ beside him.

"Stop! Please!" Reid begged the torturer in his subconscious, carving into his teammates with his pitiful pleas.

"Spence," JJ called to the genius, grabbing his less injured hand and giving it a shake.

"Reid," Morgan squeezed his shoulder. "Wake up, kid."

"NO! Don't!" Reid began to thrash on the small bed and Morgan and JJ had to do their best to restrain him while not aggravating his numerous injuries. "PLEASE!"

"Spence, it's just a dream" JJ tried to wake him but he seemed stuck in his nightmare.

"Wake up Reid," Morgan called louder and suddenly Reid gasped and his eyes shot open. He began to struggle but Morgan held his still. "Calm down, pretty boy, it was just a dream. You're safe now."

Recognition finally settled in Reid's wide eyes and instead of trying to fight his teammates, he clung to them for dear life; his injured fingers grasping at the fabric of their shirts.

"It's all right," JJ smoothed a hand over his tangled locks. Soon his breathing evened out and Morgan pushed him gently back onto the bed, Reid hissed and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

"Is it bad?" Morgan knew that his young friend must be in great deal of pain from his injuries. At Reid's nod, Morgan gently moved the boy's hands from his middle and began to pull his hospital gown up.

"Wh- what are you doing?" Reid stammered out, but was too weak to struggle.

"I need to make sure that you haven't popped any of your stitches from flailing around, kid." Morgan explained, tone soothing as he gently checked each wound. Reid swallowed heavily and closed his eyes, a slight blush rising to his cheeks at the thought that JJ was still in the room to see his marred torso. But then he reminded himself that if the unsub had been telling the truth then they'd all seen the whole show. Too late for modesty.

A dark wave crashed over his mind at that thought, just like the one that had nearly drowned him after the unsub told him that the team had been watching. It was a potent mixture of pain, mortification, embarrassment and shame. His team had seen it, all of it. What Walker did to him was a hundred times worse than the Hankle case and they'd been privy to every moment of it in high definition LCD.

Morgan replaced the gown and gave him a reassuring smile. "You're all good, pretty boy."

Reid was too morose to speak so he just nodded. He realized that JJ's small hand was still wrapped with his when she gave it a reassuring squeeze. He quickly removed it from her grasp just as a nurse walked into the room carrying a tray.

"Well look who's up," she said cheerily as she placed the tray on the rolley table beside his bed. "I've never had the pleasure of meeting you while you were awake, my name is Nancy."

"Dr. Reid," he supplied shortly.

If she was taken aback by the use of his title, she didn't show it. "How are we feeling today Dr. Reid? Any nausea, dizziness or intense pain?"

Reid shook his head 'no' but Morgan answered for him. "His abdominal region has been hurting him pretty bad." Reid sent him a look that clearly said 'traitor.'

"Well, I can get you something extra to help with that-"

"No!" Reid cut in abruptly, "I don't need anything."

"Reid-" Morgan started but was abruptly cut off.

"I'm fine."

Nancy's professional smile didn't miss a beat. "Well, let me know if you change your mind. In the meantime we'd like to get you eating again to combat the malnutrition and help your body heal." She said removing the lid from the tray containing some soup, crackers and bowl of orange Jell-O.

"Thanks Nancy," JJ flashed the nurse a smile, she'd taken quickly to her over the time Reid had been in the hospital. Nancy returned a smile of her own as she departed.

"Looks like they're starting you off light," Morgan said as he pushed the table closer to Reid, deliberately ignoring the younger agent's surly attitude and adjusting the bed so that Reid was sitting up enough to eat.

He pushed his spoon through the thin broth with his bandaged left hand for a few minutes. He'd taken a few bites but the salty soup felt wrong in his mouth, which for the last week it seemed had only been used for breathing and screaming. He flashed briefly to the unsub's sour mouth on his and felt suddenly queasy.

Morgan noticed his lack of enthusiasm, "I know hospital food sucks but you've got to eat, kid."

"'M not hungry," Reid muttered.

"C'mon, at least eat some Jell-o. They gave you a whole bunch, almost like they knew it was your favorite."

_Cold lips against his. A slimy feted tongue violating his mouth, tasting his blood as his body did cruel, painful things to his own and all the while they were watching_.

"I said I'm not hungry!" Reid nearly shouted, his voice still too hoarse to muster up a yell.

"Spence, what has gotten into you?" JJ asked, eyes wide, startled by his outburst. He suddenly wondered if it was the same expression she'd worn when she watched him being raped.

Reid buried his reddened face into his hands and shook his head; the cast on his right hand was rough against his cheek.

"JJ could you give us a minute?" Morgan asked, his keen profiler eyes watching the genius.

"Sure," JJ said coolly as she left to get another cup of coffee.

As soon as he door was shut Morgan started in on Reid. "What's goin' on with you, man?" After a moment of silence he pushed further, "I can't help you if you don't let me in."

Reid swallowed thickly and it was audible throughout the quiet room. "Th-the unsub… said something to me right before he… uh… He told me that you guys could… see everything he did to me. Was that… is it true?" He finally managed to get out, looking up from his hands to study Morgan's expression.

Morgan let out a sigh, "he sent us videos through an untraceable email account."

Reid's already pale face became ghostly, "He wasn't lying." His voice was void of any emotion but then he started to take on a panicked look. "That means you saw… you saw what he did to me. How he…" he was on the verge of hyperventilating at this point and Morgan did the only thing he could think of which was to wrap the genius up in a warm embrace.

He rubbed one of his large hands down Reid's narrow back while supporting most of his weight with his other arm and being cautious of the broken ribs. After a minute of the continuous soothing motion Morgan felt the genius's breathing return to a regular pace.

"Is that what's eating at you?" He asked after a while. "That we saw it?"

Reid nodded against the larger man's chest.

Morgan let out another sigh before resting the younger agent back against the mattress of the bed so that he could look him in the eye. There were wet trails on Reid's face and he watched him scrub frustratedly at them with his hand. The sight of the bandages on the tip of each finger made Morgan think carefully about what he was about to say.

"Reid," he said after a moment, waiting until he had the younger's timid eye contact. "No one thinks any less of you for what that bastard did. In fact, I'm proud of you for holding out as long as you did. I doubt that I could have."

"That's-" Reid began in an attempt at denial.

"The god's honest truth" Morgan interrupted firmly. "You survived days of brutal torture and dehydration and you're still here. Not everyone could have survived that."

"I get your point, but that doesn't change what he did to me" Reid said quietly, arms wrapped protectively around his abdomen. Then in a whisper: "he raped me, Morgan. He ripped me open and got off on hearing me scream."

Morgan closed his eyes tightly at the kid's haunting confession, the images from the videos replaying in his head. "I know."

"Everyone saw it. Those were the worst moments of my life, and the entire team saw it. I have to see you guys every day and now I have to contend with the fact that not only have you all seen me naked, but you've seen me being violated. I can't… I don't know if I can stand it."

Morgan thought long and hard about what he was going to say. "Watching those videos was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. But trust me when I say this, no one on the team is going to look at you and think anything but how grateful they are that we found you in one piece. You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, and we are all damn proud of how hard you fought."

Reid's eyes took on a slight watery sheen, "Thanks,… you know… for finding me."

Morgan smiled, "anytime, kid."

A minute passed in silence, Reid seemed to be thinking very deeply about something. "Can I ask you something personal?"

"We've got no secrets, pretty boy."

_Isn't that the truth_, Reid thought absently. "After…after Carl Buford," Reid started and saw the larger man's frame tense at the mention of the name. "How long did it take until you felt like a person again?"

It was a strangely worded question, but Morgan knew exactly what he meant. "It took a while… to stop feeling like a victim. But after some time had passed, I realized that I was still the same person, you know? I still liked the same food, the same music, I wore the same clothes and kept doing everything that I normally did and eventually I realized that it wasn't a raw wound anymore. It still hurt, it'll always hurt, but its scar tissue now. You understand?"

"I think so" Reid said in his pensive voice.

"You can't ignore it," Morgan continued with emphasis. "You can't bury it and pretend that it didn't happen because it'll eat you alive, but you _can_ keep it from taking over your life."

Reid nodded stiffly, his head still throbbed but what Morgan said seemed to make a lot of sense to him.

"Alright, I was honest with you, now it's your turn to be honest with me." Morgan said and Reid looked up at him, eyes wide at this turn in conversation. "How bad are you really hurting?"

Reid's eyes dropped to trace the folds of the bed sheets as he paused to consider his answer. "It's bad," He said quietly after a while. "Everything hurts, but my balls burn like they're on fire and I feel like I've been impaled like a medieval heretic."

Morgan watched as Reid's eyes closed and the pain he'd been trying to suppress etched his features. "Why not accept a little more morphine? You're on way less than what the doctors recommend."

Reid looked sheepish. "You know why."

"Reid, you're only going to be on the narcotics for the amount of time that the doctors insist that you need them, then as soon as you're mobile we'll get you back to attending regular NA meetings."

Reid swallowed thickly, before finally consenting. "All right."

Morgan smiled and gently clapped him on the shoulder, "Don't worry, kid, we'll be with you every step of the way."

Reid gave a small smile before a dawning realization made his face fall open in shock. "I'm going to have to be on crutches for months!"

Morgan snickered. "Correction, you're going to be an invalid for a few weeks and _then_ you'll be on crutches for months."

"Fuck!" Reid balked at the idea.

"You'll be fine, now eat your lunch before it gets too cold."

Reid eyes dropped to the bedding again. "Every time I try to eat I get these… flashbacks."

Morgan nodded, "It's common with PTSD." He fished the bowl of jell-o off of the tray and set it in front of the genius. "Just try not to think about it."

Reid nodded and accepted the spoon Morgan held out to him awkwardly with his left hand. He made it through almost half of the jell-o when JJ returned with coffees for herself and Morgan. Reid eyed their cups enviously.

"None for you until the doctors give you the go ahead, Spence" JJ said reproachfully.

Reid deflated with a painful sigh. "My body's craving caffeine more than the morphine," he quipped.

"Well forget about it and finish your jell-o," Morgan ordered playfully, elated to see his friend eating again.

Reid dug his spoon into the wiggling mass.

* * *

"He must be ducking bellow police radar some how," Hotch observed aloud to Morgan and Garcia in the bullpen. It was an hour after Morgan and JJ had come to the BAU to relieve them but the unit chief and the techno goddess had been too frustrated with their lack of results to leave for their allotted time of rest. In the background the giant TV was playing the live press conference that JJ was currently giving, the blond liaison holding up the most recent known photograph of Gregory Walker.

"The property we found Reid in was rented under a bogus name from a shady realtor," Garcia chimed in as she tapped away at her keys.

"Maybe that's how he's dodging our net," Morgan suggested, "through identity fraud. That way he could leave a trail, but it wouldn't be under his name."

"Yeah, that makes sense, but without anything more specific I'm afraid I can't help you. Do you know how many cases of identity theft occur every day in the US?" asked Garcia.

"I'm sure Reid does," Morgan said absently.

"How was my baby cakes doing when you left?"

"Better. Been sleeping like a log since I got him to agree to let the doctor up the morphine," Morgan informed.

"How'd you do that?" Asked Hotch, one of his thick eyebrows raised in inquiry.

"I had a long talk with him; set him straight after he admitted to being embarrassed about the whole team watching what Walker did to him."

"I can't imagine what he must be going through," Garcia's normally cheery voice was suddenly somber.

"The important thing is to not let him isolate himself," Hotch reminded them. "We're going to get through this as a team and our contribution to that is going to be catching the son of a bitch that hurt him and put him behind bars."

Morgan and Garcia nodded their understanding and quickly got back to work.

* * *

Gregory Walker's body thrummed with eagerness as his hard-won patience paid out. Dawning the pale blue scrubs, white coat and stethoscope he'd pilfered from the first floor locker room, he loitered about the trauma ward with his head held high. Seth had always told him that if he wanted to look like he fit in, all he had to do was look confident.

The FBI agents released an old picture of him to the press, but they were foolish to think that something like that would bring down a predator like himself. He'd long ago dyed his blond hair a dark boring brown and bought fake glasses that combined made him look completely forgettable and ordinary. Just like Seth had said.

Over the last day he had come to learn the comings and goings of the agents guarding his prey. They traded off in shifts but they all followed the same routine. If one was hungry or needed something to drink, the other would stay behind to protect their injured colleague. He was never alone, not even for a minute, and it made his blood boil.

The boy was his! He'd claimed him both inside and out! Gregory quickly tried to suppress the fiery flames of his temper. Seth had always told him that he was too hot headed, that he should be cooler and more calculating like him. And he had to admit that it had been fun. Hearing the little agent scream and beg for mercy while the agents that had put his big brother on death row had made him feel powerful and manly.

He waited for one of the agents to go downstairs to the cafeteria for dinner before he made his move. His heart leapt when he saw the brunette woman leave the darkened room. The nurse had just finished her rounds, so if he got rid of the old man in the room with his prize he'd have a whole half an hour to himself.

He waited for the brunette to round the corner to the elevator bay before striding confidently to the door. He knocked softly, as he'd seen doctors do, before quietly entering. He only allowed himself the tiniest glimpse of his prey before focusing on the task at hand.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Thomson," he said smoothly, reciting the name on the tag of the stolen lab coat. "I'm filling in for Dr. Greenberg, I just need to check on a few things. If you want to step out to get some dinner or a coffee-"

"I'd rather stay," The old man said politely but firmly.

"Are you sure? I'm going to need to inspect his more…" he suppressed a shiver as he said it "intimate wounds."

"It won't make me uncomfortable," he said and Gregory saw his eyes narrow slightly. The old man could tell that something was up, his hand was casually moving closer to the gun at his hip.

Walker struck lightning fast, hitting him upside the head with the thick handle of the knife he'd tucked away in his coat pocket. Caught by surprise, the blow landed perfectly and the agent slid bonelessly to the dingy linoleum, completely unconscious.

He took the time to bind his hands, feet and mouth with the roll of duct tape he'd brought with him in case he regained consciousness before his time was up, but judging from the lazy line of blood trailing from his temple, it was highly unlikely. But better safe than sorry, Seth had always said.

Finally done with the old man he turned to his prize. He was sleeping peacefully, blankets tucked up to his chin, head rolled to one side with his lips slightly parted. His bloody little angle.

Gregory quickly smoothed a piece of tape over his sweet little mouth then taped his wrists to the bed railings at his sides. He'd wanted to tape them above his head just like in his special room, and he knew that he'd been sleeping heavily ever since the doctors upped the morphine drip, but he decided not to push his luck.

He'd just finished taping when the little agent began to stir. He moaned sleepily before his eyes suddenly opened in panic at not being able to move. The fear he saw in those precious hazel eyes was breathtaking when recognition dawned. The flat, sinister brown of his eyes was unmistakable.

He stripped the blankets off of the bed and paused slightly to enjoy the boy shiver before straddling his narrow hips and cutting away the flimsy hospital gown with his knife. Reid whimpered as he stared hungrily at his bandaged body but quickly cried out against the gag as the bandages were ripped away.

Gregory savored the muffled yelps before moving on; he only had a little over twenty minutes left. He fingered the long cut he'd made several days ago on the younger man's chest, just below his left nipple. It had been the agent's first taste of real pain at his hands. Using his knife he carefully began to remove the black stitches that closed the wound, eliciting little whines with each broken thread.

After all seventeen had been removed he savagely ripped the healing wound open and dipped his tongue into the fresh stream of blood. He rolled his eyes up to see agent Reid's face wet with tears and scrunched in agony as he emitted a high keen. He was beautiful.

Conscious of his time limit he moved on to lower things. After stripping the tattered remnants of the hospital gown that had gathered at the agent's pelvis he found the raised mauve burn on the agent's scrotum. He ignored the pleading look in the agent's eyes as he leaned down and ran his tongue over the burned skin. The pained eyes squeezed tightly shut and his hips bucked off of the bed at the unexpected agony.

As he did this, he unceremoniously pressed a finger into Reid's entrance, causing another yelp of pain and more useless squirming. He found more stitches. The though excited him and he quickly pulled his throbbing dick out of his scrubs.

Reid screamed against his gag as Walker forcefully pressed into his injured body; his muscles taught and quivering in agony as he felt his internal stitches tear and his wounds rip open. Gregory pulled out to the tip before ramming in again and receiving another muffled scream. He set a brutal rhythm to compensate for their lack of time that had Reid writhing and bloody on the bed before he finally came deep inside of the young genius. Walker's seed stung his wounds like acid.

Gregory withdrew and readjusted his pants; the nurse would be by soon. He leaned in and licked the trail of sweet tears from Reid's face.

"I can always get to you," he whispered and the boy shuddered. He ran his hand seductively down the agent's body and licked a path down to his quivering stomach before biting down hard until he tasted blood on his tongue. His parting gift.

He left the shaking agent taped to the bed as he slipped out of the room, passing the pretty nurse down the hall on her way through her rounds. He smirked to himself as he ducked into an elevator mere seconds before she got to Reid's room.

* * *

Nancy yawned as she checked her cheap digital watch; nursing was a messy job and any nicer things were better saved for outside of work if she expected them to stay nice. It was twenty to ten and she was almost done with a twelve hour shift, but she had just enough time to check in on her most interesting patient.

She strode down the hall to the familiar room and noted the darkened windows that indicated that the doctor (PhD's, not medical. She'd asked) was asleep. She knocked softly to alert the agents inside before pushing the well oiled door open to reveal the bloody mess within.

She stood stock still for a long second, her breath caught in her chest, before a scream finally bubbled up from her throat.

There were hands suddenly on her shoulders and she was spun around to face the brunette agent. _Prentiss_, her addled brain supplied absently.

"What's wrong?" She asked urgently, her dark eyes filled with concern, but Nancy was too shocked to answer. Emily turned her head to peer into the dark room and froze.

"Oh my god."

* * *

I just couldn't leave him alone for long. Poor guy.

Even more H/C comming up. It probably wont be as sappy as what was in this one but I make no guarantees. Sappy is just really easy to write :/

Until next time,

PancakeMassacre


	11. Chapter 11

_Emily turned her head to peer into the dark room and froze._

_"Oh my god."_

She snapped out of her shock quickly and darted into the room. She saw Rossi on the floor and quickly knelt to check his pulse. She found it strong and steady, his only injury appeared to be a blow to the head that had left behind what was rapidly becoming a goose egg on his forehead a well as a small cut that might require a couple stitches. Once she was sure that the older of her colleagues wasn't seriously injured, she hurried to Reid's bedside.

His chest was heaving and his eyes were streaming; he managed to make small pained sounds from beneath the duct tape gag. Prentiss was worried that he might not be getting enough oxygen.

"Reid, shh. It's okay now" she attempted to sooth him. "I'm going to take this gag off, okay?"

He nodded profusely and she quickly peeled the duct tape up from his lips. He took a greedy gasp of air but let it out as a pained groan. "H- he was here… only a m-minute ago."

She'd probably passed him on her way up. "Nancy!" she called to the nurse who was still standing shell shocked. She jumped and turned wide eyes to Prentiss. "I need you to call security and lock this building down. The bastard could still be on the premises. And get a doctor; I've got two injured agents in here."

Nancy's professional mask slipped into place and she quickly went to the wall phone and called security before paging the doctor and calling in another nurse from the station.

"Emily," Reid's voice was a barely audible squeak.

"Shh, you're going to be all right, Reid." Prentiss went about cutting the duct tape from around his wrists, being careful of the casted arm. She then stooped to pick up the tattered remnants of his hospital gown from the floor and draped it over his hips. She closed her eyes and had to take a calming breath at the sight of the blood on his body. She took up his trembling hand in her own while quickly pulling out her phone with her other and pressing speed dial.

Hotch answered on the first ring. "Hotchner"

"Hotch get everyone to the hospital now," her voice was thick but calm so as not to agitate Reid who still seemed to be having some difficulty breathing.

"What happened?" He demanded, his voice taking on a heated, almost panicked edge.

"Walker got into the hospital somehow. Rossi's out but not bad," she paused to swallow the lump building up in her throat. "He got to Reid."

She could hear her teammates shouting in the background and car doors slamming. "We'll be there in ten minutes." Hotch said before abruptly hanging up.

Prentiss wanted to run her hand over Reid's hair to sooth him but knew that it could contaminate evidence. Instead she settled for giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "The team's on their way. Everything's going to be all right."

Doctor Greenberg sprinted into the room along with another nurse. They bypassed Nancy who was leaning over Rossi and inspecting his head wound and went straight to the genius gasping on the bed.

"He's hyperventilating!" the doctor shouted to the nurse who quickly grabbed an oxygen mask and fitted it over Reid's mouth and nose. The nasal canula that he'd had before was lost somewhere in the bed sheets. "Dr. Reid?" he called while shinning a light into the boy's eyes to check for any further head injury. "I need you to try and calm down. Take deep even breaths."

Emily kept a hold of Reid's hand and coached him through his breaths and kept his attention on her as Dr. Greenberg inspected his injuries. He waited until his patient had resumed a normal breathing pattern before lifting the shredded and bloody gown enough to see the damage beneath. Prentiss saw no change in his expression and she was willing to bet that he was a great poker player.

"We need to move agents Reid and Rossi to examination rooms," he said evenly.

Prentiss nodded. "I'm going to have to seal this room as a crime scene."

"I understand. I'll have your agents transferred to a new room."

Rossi was already on his way to X-ray and Reid was just being wheeled out of his room when the rest of the team arrived.

"What's happening?" Hotch ordered as they walked alongside Reid's gurney.

"Rossi's down in radiology and we're taking Reid to an exam room," Prentiss briefed them. "We need to call in a crime scene unit for the room."

"I'm on it," JJ called as she pulled out her phone.

They followed the gurney to a first floor exam room that they all recognized from their long careers of law enforcement. A room designated for sexual assault examinations. It sent a shiver down their spines at the thought of one of their own being in one of these rooms.

Dr. Greenberg and two nurses gently moved Reid from the gurney to the exam table. He fished out several forms from a drawer and positioned them onto a clipboard before sitting in a chair beside the exam table with a pen in hand. "All right Dr. Reid, I'm going to need you to tell me exactly what happened. I can ask your colleagues to wait outside if you would be more comfortable with talking to me privately."

Reid's eyes widened and he abruptly shook his head, leaning back into the support of his team which had gathered around the exam table. They were all careful not to touch him unless it was over the blanket that the doctor had laid over him from shoulders to toes before they left the blood spattered room. Reid needed his team with him, he'd never felt more alone than when he woke up to see Walker's smiling face above his.

"All right then, just start from the beginning," Greenberg instructed smoothly.

"I- I woke up and there was duct tape over my mouth and… and when I tried to move I realized that my wrists were taped to the bedrails. Then I looked up and saw him," Reid's voice became choked.

"Take your time Reid," Hotch coached from the genius's right. Reid nodded and took a minute to get himself under control before beginning again.

"He'd always worn a ski mask in the…in the cellar, but I could tell it was him." Reid's pale face took on a haunted look. "His eyes… I couldn't mistake them anywhere." He couldn't suppress the shiver that ran up his spine. "He… he sat on top of me and cut my gown away then ripped off all of my bandages. H-he cut all the stitches off the wound on my chest then… ripped it open with his fingers."

Garcia gasped and several of the agents had to close their eyes and use breathing techniques to keep themselves under control. Morgan fought to keep a lid on a boiling rage while JJ choked down a bout of nausea. Reid seemed slightly detached from the narrative, though his voice trembled as he spoke.

"I remember him… licking the blood before he…he uh" Reid's face began to flush as he stumbled over his words.

"It's all right, kid. Just say it" Morgan encouraged.

"He started to suck on the electrical burns." Reid's eyes began to water and his chest hitched slightly. "It… it hurt… a lot. And then there were…fingers inside of me." Tears ran down his cheeks along several of the other occupants of the room. "He took himself out of his scrubs and then he…he…"

"It's okay, Reid. We get the idea," Morgan soothed as he gripped the younger agent's shaking hand as he let out a small sob.

"He was wearing scrubs?" Hotch asked after Reid had calmed down some. The genius nodded, and Hotch filed that piece of information away for later.

"All right, Agent Reid, can you tell us what else happened?" Dr. Greenberg prompted.

"After he'd…finished, he licked the tears on my face and then he bit me really hard on my stomach and left."

"Can you tell me if he wore a condom?" the doctor asked while writing on his chart.

"N-no, he didn't," Reid replied. "He did both other times though."

"Okay, that's all I needed to know," Dr. Greenberg removed the top page of his forms and set them down on the small counter beside the sink.

"You did good, kid." Morgan complimented and received a small watery smile that lasted all of a second but was still much appreciated.

"I'm going to have to ask you to clear the room for the physical exam." Dr. Greenberg said politely as he slipped on a pair of latex gloves and pulled a sheet-covered tray closer to the exam table. Reid's eyes widened in panic and he turned his petrified gaze from the tray to Morgan and then back

"It's all right, pretty boy, I'm not going anywhere," Morgan appeased him, gripping his hand tighter.

"We'll be right outside, Reid." Hotch reassured before the team headed out of the room and closed the door behind them.

"Okay, are you gentlemen familiar with S.A.F.E. examinations?" The doctor asked before beginning.

Reid and Morgan both nodded. It was part of their job to be familiar with the procedure of a rape kit.

"Good, that makes this a bit easier. I'm going to start with a hair sample then move on to swabs. Does that sound okay?" Greenberg asked delicately. Morgan was grateful that the doctor was showing Reid a proper amount of sensitivity.

Reid nodded his consent and Dr. Greenberg fished out a disposable comb from a sealed plastic bag. He gently ran it through Reid's hair and collected any stray strands in a paper envelope, in case they belonged to the attacker. He sealed the envelope after he was done and retrieved several sterile swabs.

"Dr. Reid, can you tell me which side of your face he licked you on?"

Reid gestured to his right check and Dr. Greenberg rubbed the swab across his skin before sealing it and setting it on the counter next to the envelope. "I'm going to move on to the wounds on you're chest, so I have to pull the sheet down to your waist. Is that okay?"

Morgan felt Reid's hand twitch in his and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. "O-okay."

The doctor moved the sheet down to his patients hips studied the fresh bite wound on his stomach and regarded the cut on his chest which had been covered with a patch of gauze to stop the bleeding. It was spotted with crimson stains. He swabbed the bite mark for saliva and sealed it before pulling a digital camera from one of the drawers. "I need to take a few pictures of your wounds."

Reid nodded then flinched when the flash went off. He closed his eyes tightly as the doctor photographed and documented the wounds that Walker had left behind. When he was finished, Dr. Greenberg taped a fresh pad of gauze to each wound and replaced the sheet up to Reid's chest. He knelt beneath the table and unhooked a pair of stirrups from the bottom, muttering to himself as he pulled them out to their locked position. Reid's eyes went wide.

"All right, I'm going to need you to scoot down the table a little bit and rest your feet on the stirrups." The doctor instructed. Morgan helped a trembling Reid get into position, making the paper covered exam table crinkle with the movement, while Greenberg balanced his casted leg on a stirrup. Reid's face took on a pinkish tinge and he felt very exposed in spite of the fact that he was still covered.

Dr. Greenberg lifted the sheet to his patient's knees and gently spread his legs. "I'm going to do another hair sample and more swabs, okay?"

Reid gave a faint nod, too scared to find his voice. Morgan leaned in close, resting his spare hand on the younger agent's shoulder.

Reid vaguely saw the doctor unwrap a small comb before he felt it brushing through his pubic hair, again looking for anything that may belong to Walker. Dr. Greenberg then took up another swab. Reid hissed as he felt the rough cotton rub against the burn on his testicles. Morgan's grip tightened and the doctor uttered a quick apology.

"I'm going to begin the internal exam now, all right Dr. Reid?"

The genius's eyes got impossibly wider and his chest began to rise and fall rapidly in panic.

"It's gonna be okay, Reid. Just stay calm." Morgan soothed, rubbing the tense shoulder under his palm. Reid swallowed back the taste of bile in his throat and gave a shaky nod.

"You're going to feel something cold and then some discomfort. Just try and stay relaxed" Dr. Greenberg instructed.

He winced when he felt the cold lips of the speculum press against his abused entrance and whimpered as it pressed into his body. Morgan pulled the boy close against him and Reid groaned into his chest as the speculum was opened. The morphine that ran through his veins was evidently not enough to combat the searing cold fire inside of him. "Shh, just relax and breathe through it, Reid" Morgan coached. "I've gotcha."

"Hurts," Reid whined into the cotton of the larger man's tee shirt.

"I know, pretty boy. But it'll be over soon."

Reid felt the cotton tip of a swab brush against his torn inner walls and cracked open an eye to watch Dr. Greenberg seal the Q tip covered in blood and semen in a plastic cap. He repeated the process several times.

"All right, we're done with the samples, but several of your internal stitches have torn, and I'd like to give you something to make you fall asleep before I repair them." The doctor explained. Reid was quick to agree, the pain inside of him was beginning to grow beyond what he could stand. Dr. Greenberg pulled a syringe from a locked cabinet and injected it into the genius's IV port. Morgan held Reid tightly until the drugs took affect and the trembling in the tiny body against his ceased as he slipped into the welcomed unconsciousness.

* * *

"How the hell did this happen?" JJ fumed as she watched the crime scene crew comb over the bloody bed that Reid had been tied down and tortured on only an hour and a half ago.

Hotch had just returned from Rossi's room and his face was set with grim lines, the bags under his eyes more pronounced than ever. "He was dressed as a doctor. Dave said that he introduced himself as Dr. Thomson and that the nametag on his lab coat matched his alias."

Just then Emily ducked under the crime scene tape and headed towards them. "A Dr. Paul Thomson in pediatrics reported that his locker had been broken into two days ago and that a lab coat and a pair of scrubs were stolen."

"Damnit" Hotch swore.

"And no one felt the need to tell us about that?" JJ asked, her tone accosted. She had the look on her face that meant that someone was getting fired.

"Evidently not," Emily said dryly, her gaze avoiding the bloody bed.

"How could he do all this while we had two agents with him?" Garcia asked, blotting at the tear stains on her plump cheeks with a vintage hanky, her tone was unaccusing.

"I left to grab a sandwich from the cafeteria at 8:30 and returned a little before nine to find Nancy screaming in the doorway" Prentiss recounted.

"Dave said that Walker came in a minute after you left," Hotch explained. "Then when he suspected that he was hinky, he hit him over the head with something and knocked him out." He paused for a second. "He had over twenty minutes alone with Reid."

The statement fell flat on the room and everyone had to work to keep their minds from replaying the horrific images they'd seen on the videos.

"I've got a clean image of Walker off of the security cameras," Garcia said, breaking the silence and turning her hot pink laptop around for the others to see.

"No wonder no one recognized him," Prentiss observed. "He's completely changed his image."

"Can you get this circulated by morning?" Hotch asked JJ.

"I'm already on it," she replied, cell phone pressed to her ear. "With luck it'll make the eleven o'clock news."

"Good," Hotch said, his voice hard and eyes smoldering as he stared at the image of Walker. "Because I want this bastard caught yesterday."

* * *

Ooooo, that last line made me all tingly. Okay, so here's the deal. There one little detail about the end of this story that i'm still up in the air about and have decided to leave it up to you guys. Should the unsub be brought to justice? or would you rather he died an ugly death? Feel free to be as graphic in your response as you please :)

BTW: S.A.F.E stands for sexual assault forensics examination, for those of you who don't know, and is commonly referred to as a rape kit. What I wrote up here was sort of an abridged version of this.

Good luck with finals my fellow students! If you don't hear from me in a couple weeks don't be allarmed! I'm not dead, just fucked up a creak without a paddle for my exams. I will try to get another chapter up within the week, but you know how that goes.

As always, thank you for your reviews.

-PancakeMassacre


	12. Chapter 12

Hi guys. I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, but with finals and portfolios and moving out of the dorms I was overwhelmingly busy. I hope this long chapter makes up for my tardiness.

* * *

Chapter 12

The team sat in Reid's darkened room watching his lean chest rise and fall evenly through the thin blue hospital blanket as he slept. JJ's press conference was on the TV, then volume turned low. Dr. Greenberg had assigned him a new room in the oncology ward instead of trauma to throw off Walker in case he attempted to revisit the young profiler. Two armed agents stood outside the room making sure that anyone who wasn't Reid's doctor, attending nurse or in the BAU was denied access.

"He can't stay here," Morgan stated darkly. "If they got to him once, they can get to him again."

"I've been circling around the same idea, but I'm hesitant to take him out of the hospital so soon" Hotch admitted.

"Why not move him to a different hospital?" Emily suggested.

"If Walker managed to find him here, then he could probably find him just as easily in another hospital," Rossi observed, having recently returned with the doctor's diagnosis of a mild concussion.

"What if we took him home and had someone with him 'round the clock to take care of him?" Garcia chimed in from the genius's bedside.

"We can't take him back to his place, it's still a crime scene" Hotch reminded them.

"How 'bout my place?" Pitched Morgan. "I've got a guest bedroom and the house is a single story so there are no stairs to climb."

"Sounds like it's the best plan we've got," Hotch sighed resignedly. "I'll go talk to the doctor about drawing up the AMA papers." He left the room and soon returned with an unhappy Dr. Greenberg.

"I can't advise that you remove him from medical care at this time," he said.

"We don't have much of a choice, Doc" Morgan rebutted. "His safety is our number one concern."

The doctor let out a long deflating sigh. "All right, but you're going to have to wait until he wakes up and I've examined him, and there are several things I'll need to go over with you all in regards to his care."

Hotch nodded. "Understood. We'll see to it personally that he's taken care of."

Dr. Greenberg seemed less than reassured but grimly accepted. "I'll get the AMA papers for you to sign."

* * *

It was several hours before Reid began to stir.

Garcia lovingly caressed his hair. "Come back to use, baby cakes. Show us all those beautiful eyes of yours."

It took a minute but Reid finally managed to follow the voice and fight passed the syrupy thick fog of the sedation and blinked open his eyes.

"There you are," the blond cooed softly as she stroked his cheek, brushing away a lone tear with her thumb. "You're all right, sweetie."

"Gar…cia?" Reid choked out, the sedative had left him with a bad case of dry mouth. JJ handed a cup of ice chips and a spoon to the techno goddess who ladled a spoonful into the young agent's eager mouth. It dissolved quickly and he was much more comfortable.

"Good news, pumpkin pie, we're busting you outta here and taking you to big brother Derek's house after the doctor takes a look at you" Garcia informed the still fuzzy genius. "How does that sound?"

Reid just nodded and slurred out a weak "'kay," before letting his eyes close again.

The doctor came in ten minutes later and Reid was roused as a flashlight was shined into both of his eyes. The young profiler forced himself to relax as Dr. Greenberg checked over his injuries and replaced his bandages but felt himself tense up when he asked him to bend his knees and put his feet flat onto the table. The lower examination was done discretely beneath the blankets but it left Reid in tears regardless.

"All right, sign these forms and I'll start unhooking him from the monitors."

Hotch signed on the dotted line and Dr. Greenberg and a nurse removed the leads of the heart monitor from his chest, the blood pressure cuff from his arm, the nasal canula from his face and the pulse ox from his index finger before sliding the IV from his elbow.

"He's all yours," Dr. Greenberg announced as the nurse rolled in a wheel chair and a pair of crutches. "Remember everything we discussed and call me if you have any questions or if something comes up."

Hotch nodded and shook the MD's hand. "Thank you doctor."

It took some doing, but Hotch and Morgan were able to wrestle the lanky half-conscious genius into a pair of boxers, loose fitting sweat pants and an Arthur Conan Doyle tee shirt that JJ had picked up from his apartment on her way back from the press conference along with several other items of sleep wear and toiletries.

Hotch lifted his drug addled colleague from the bed and deposited him into the chair that Morgan was holding steady. After arranging one of the petals so that his casted leg could stay extended, he grabbed the pair of crutches and the bag that JJ had packed. Hotch recognized it as one of Reid's go bags. The team was waiting for them in the hall and Emily laughed at the sight of Reid's head lolling back against the seat of the wheelchair.

"Yeah, he's really out of it," Morgan chuckled as he brought one of his hands up from where he had been pushing the wheelchair to gently move the genius's head forward to rest on his chest. The kid's eyes were closed and they assumed he'd drifted back asleep.

Morgan set out towards the elevator with the wheelchair and they all made their way down to the parking lot where Rossi was waiting with one of the bureau SUVs. Hotch wasn't sure if this counted as an abuse of their G car privileges, but he decided that he couldn't care less. He helped Morgan gently load Reid into the back seat before the dark man climbed in with him. Hotch claimed shotgun while the others piled into another car.

Reid woke up on the way to Morgan's and became increasingly more aware as the journey continued, the heavy haze of the sedative dissipating as the drug wore off. He was more or less fully alert when they finally rolled up Morgan's driveway.

With Morgan's help he slowly eased his way out of the SUV and onto the pavement where Rossi and Morgan each pulled one of his arms over their shoulders and began at a slow pace up the short walkway to the front door. Reid hissed with every hobbled step, his insides seared with every movement and his testicles burned; his ribs and casted leg ached fiercely. It was a long and arduous journey that left Reid winded, but they eventually made it to the front door. Garcia was suddenly there, the rest of the team having arrived without Reid noticing, and she suggestively reached into the front pocket of Morgan's jeans for his keys with a raised eyebrow; her hand lingering for perhaps longer than necessary.

"You realize this means you owe me dinner, right?" Morgan quipped.

She sent him a sexy wink before turning to unlock the door and let them into the house. They were greeted by Clooney who immediately began to nuzzle the techno goddess, starved for attention since the case had kept them so busy.

As Garcia cooed at the dog, Reid, Morgan and Rossi continued their trek towards the spare bedroom. When they finally eased him down onto the bed, Reid was sweating and panting with exertion.

Morgan quirked his face into a handsome smirk. "I'm gonna work you back into shape as soon as you get that cast off, kid."

Reid groaned and buried his face farther into the pillow beneath his head. "Don' wanna," he griped lazily.

Morgan laughed. "Yeah, we'll see."

Hotch came in with the go bag and began unpacking its contents into the dresser beside the bed as Emily propped the crutches in one of the corners of the room, knowing that it would be a while before they'd be used.

Reid was already asleep when Garcia tucked him into bed, murmuring slightly when she planted a kiss on his forehead that left behind a smear of pink lipstick.

The team was loath to leave him but they had a criminal to catch, and there was almost nothing more than they wanted than to see the sadistic bastard that had hurt their genius be taken down. They were sure to keep at least two people at the house at all times, and they set up a makeshift secondary Quantico on Morgan's dining room table so that it would be easier for the team to divide its time between there and the BAU.

Morgan, Garcia and JJ stayed behind while the others went to the office. Garcia set up her laptop and a portable external hard drive on Derek's dining room table where she remotely accessed her system at the BAU. After adding a few fuzzy pens and a hot pink stuffed animal, she smiled at her makeshift office. With this set up she wouldn't have to leave the house and could maximize her sick genius time. Morgan took up a seat next to her and began to spread out a large map covered in post-its and Emily's sloppy hand writing while JJ puttered in the kitchen making coffee.

Two hours went by with all three agents going in to check on Reid at least twice before the alarm on Morgan's phone began to sound. Garcia jumped at the shrill sound and Morgan chuckled.

"What is that unholy noise?" she demanded.

"It's just my alarm, babygirl" he grinned at her. "Didn't realize you were so jumpy."

She gave an exasperated sigh that was completely negated by the mega watt smile on her face that she was having trouble concealing. "What's it for anyway? It's like ten in the morning."

"I need to get Reid to eat something and take his meds" he gave her a quick peck on the cheek as he rose from his chair. "Be right back."

"No way, hotcakes," she declared. "I'm coming with you."

Together they managed to make a light fare of toast and a sliced up banana along with a big glass of orange juice. Morgan carried the tray into the room and set it on the nightstand as Garcia perched on the edge of the bed and gently ran her fingers through Reid's hair.

"Hmmmm?" he moaned groggily.

"Time for breakfast, cutie pie" she chirped.

He opened his eyes and looked at them for a moment before sighing and letting them help him up into a sitting position against the pillows that Garcia had furiously fluffed. Morgan set the tray down on his lap.

"All right kid, get all this down then you can take your meds and get back to sleep."

Reid opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off.

"And yes, you do have to eat it all. Otherwise the meds will just make you hurl it back up." Morgan said lightly even though Reid knew he wasn't kidding.

Reid's shoulders slumped as he slowly picked up a piece of toast and raised it to his mouth to take a small bite.

"Don't pout, boy wonder," Garcia said. "It doesn't suit you."

"'M not pouting," he grumbled setting the piece of toast down on the plate in defiance. Garcia just smiled and skewered a piece of banana with a fork and raised it to his mouth.

"Open up for Aunt Penelope," she cooed.

"You're insane if you think I'm going to let you feed me," he said testily, displaying more spunk than they'd seen since before the attack at the hospital.

"And you're insane to think that my girl wont force feed you if she has to, so open up," Morgan countered.

Reid heaved another sigh and opened his mouth slightly and allowed the tech kitten to slip the piece of fruit into its confines. He quickly grabbed the fork from her and took charge of feeding himself. About fifteen minutes and a few more creative threats later, he'd finished his plate and Morgan was fishing pills out of the several bottles Dr. Greenberg had prescribed.

"These are twice a day, these ones are three times a day and these are as needed" He muttered to himself as he retrieved the correct dosage before handing them to Reid who downed them all in one swallow of orange juice. Within two minutes he was already having problems keeping his eyes open.

"Get some sleep, pretty boy," Morgan ruffled his hair and collected his empty tray.

"We'll be right down the hall if you need us. Just call out." Garcia instructed as she pulled the covers up to Reid's chest. She gently stroked his bruised face until his breath evened out and he was asleep.

"He looks so innocent when he sleeps," she observed quietly to Morgan.

"This is Reid, I think we can assume that he is innocent," he countered with a smirk.

"How could anyone want to hurt my little angel?"

"I dunno, mama" He took her hand in his and gently pulled her up from the bed. "Some people are just twisted."

They left the genius to his recuperative sleep.

Later that night the team was presented with an interesting debacle. Their boy needed a bath and his wounds needed to be cleaned and redressed. They decided that it would be least awkward coming from Morgan who enlisted Rossi for assistance. Morgan had explained how self conscious Reid had been about the videos and the team made efforts to ease his anxiety about it as much as possible.

Morgan and Rossi entered the room and set their bowls of warm soapy water and wash cloths on the night stand. "Reid?" Morgan called, waking the boy gently. His hazel eyes peaked open, still a little hazy from sleep. "Rossi and I are gonna get you cleaned up and into some fresh clothes okay?"

Reid blushed, but nodded his consent.

They carefully pulled his tee shirt over his head and removed the soiled bandages before Morgan gently removed Reid's sweatpants, but left him in his boxers for the time being. He and Rossi quickly set about bathing their younger colleague and dabbing at his wounds with peroxide before re-bandaging them.

Morgan knew that what had to come next was going to make Reid exceedingly uncomfortable so he turned to Rossi. "Would you mind making up a cup of that herbal tea Emily brought over? Reid's looking a little cold."

Rossi nodded his understanding, knowing that Derek wanted him out of the room. "Sure, I'll be back in a bit."

As soon as the door closed behind the graying agent, Morgan turned to Reid. "Kid, I need to check on your lower injuries."

Reid's eyes became impossibly wide and he swallowed nervously before nodding. With that Morgan went to work at gently removing the genius's boxers and slipping on a pair of gloves. "You ready, Reid?"

"Yeah. Just…yeah." He said shakily with another tight nod.

"I need you to remember that it's just me, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you." Morgan said sincerely, getting Reid to meet his eyes. He waited for another nod before setting to work. He cleaned the tender electrical burns carefully with some peroxide and cotton balls before coating them with a fine layer of antibiotic ointment. He then gently spread some of the same ointment over the younger agent's abused pucker before easing inside to coat the row of stitches there. He heard Reid's pained hiss and quickly apologized before withdrawing and shedding his gloves.

"You're all done, pretty boy, just let me help you into a clean set of pajamas." Morgan wiped at a few stray tears on Reid's face with a tissue before sliding a fresh pair of purple boxers up the genius's scrawny legs. He managed to get oversized green plaid pajama pants on over the cast and wrestled a Star Trek t-shirt that Emily had gotten him for Christmas onto his lean frame. Morgan then sat next to Reid on the bed and gently pulled him into his arms and held him until the profiler's hitched breathing eased. "I'm sorry," he whispered into the tangled brown locks. Reid clung to him tighter and Morgan knew that he was forgiven.

Rossi came in just as Reid had gotten himself under control with a steaming mug of sweat smelling tea and handed it to the too pale Reid. "I know it's not coffee, but it should help you feel better."

"Coffee would make me feel better," Reid protested idly, even as he sipped at his tea.

"Not until the doc gives the okay," Morgan corrected and chuckled at how Reid's shoulders slumped. The poor kid was hopelessly addicted to the stuff.

Days passed. The team rotated through the house and the BAU but Reid's care was mostly left up to Morgan and Garcia who stayed on Reid watch practically around the clock. He'd taken on a slight fever, but Dr. Greenberg assured them that it was just a minor set back from switching meds and that his new antibiotics would kick in soon. In the mean time someone stayed in the room with Reid at all times cooling him with a wet washcloth to his neck and forehead.

Garcia had JJ stop by the genius's apartment and pick up a few of his books so that she could read to him as he drifted in and out of fevered unconsciousness. Reid smiled when he woke to hear her reading Call of the Wild to him, in spite of the fact that he had memorized it at age six. He let Garcia's soothing voice lull him back to sleep.

* * *

"No! NO PLEASE DON'T!"

Morgan jumped awake and grabbed his Glock from the nightstand before bolting to the room next to his. They were alone in the house since he'd told Garcia to get a decent night's sleep in her own bed instead of his sofa. He kicked the door open and burst in, gun brandished, keen eyes searching the room for an attacker. The room was empty.

"God! Help me PLEASE!"

He looked down at the genius writhing and gasping on the bed. Reid was tangled up in the sheets and his skin was glistening with sweat, his face contorted with pain. He was also very obviously asleep.

Morgan quickly dropped the gun on the night stand and went to younger agent. "Reid!" He called as he shook the boy's shoulder with one hand and palmed his face with the other. "Kid, wake up!"

"Gahh!" Reid bolted awake, eyes wide with panic and chest heaving until he registered his surroundings. He looked up at Morgan, his big brother, with tears in his eyes.

The older man quickly scooped him up into a tight hug "You're okay, I've got you."

Reid sobbed into his chest, curling himself into an impossibly tight ball in Morgan's arms.

"Tell me what happened, Pretty boy," Morgan gently prodded after the genius had calmed down some. He handed Reid several tissues to dry his face.

"I….I was back in the cellar," he started shakily, voice thick. "He'd gotten me away from you guys some how. I was… I was chained up and he… he was cutting me open." Morgan felt his small frame shudder against him. "He reached into my abdominal cavity and pulled out my intestines then he… he" tears began to fall again. "He slicked himself with my blood and raped me."

"Oh my god," Morgan muttered as he buried his face into the Reid's brown locks and struggled to keep his own tears at bay.

"While he was… raping me," Reid started again "he pushed his hands up inside my chest and squeezed my lungs until I couldn't breathe."

"Reid," Morgan whispered, eyes clenched shut against the images playing in his head. "You're safe now. I'm not going to let him hurt you."

Reid nodded before breaking into a fresh round of sobs and clinging even tighter to Morgan's soft sleeping shirt. Morgan held him until he cried himself to sleep an hour later and for several hours after that until he finally found it in him to let go and tuck the genius into bed. He then pulled the comforter off of his own bed and curled up in the easy chair that they'd parked in the guest room. He waited out the night listening to Reid's steady breathing until it finally lulled him to sleep.

* * *

A week had passed since they prematurely removed Reid from the hospital. They'd dealt with several more nightmares, daily medications, and awkward bathing situations in stride, but they still had no new leads on Walker.

"It looks like he's disappeared again," Garcia said frustratedly from her makeshift office at Morgan's table which the team was seated around.

"Which probably means he's closer than ever," Rossi sighed as he reviewed a file for the hundredth time.

"How the hell has he been able to dodge police detection for this long?" JJ fumed. She's been working harder than any of them making sure that Walker's face was plastered on every television, newspaper and post office bulletin board in Virginia and the surrounding states, and for all their efforts they'd turned up nothing.

"What about Reid, could he know anything?" Hotch asked Morgan. "Did you talk to him?"

"Talk to me about what?" came a voice from behind them. They turned to see their resident genius hobbling towards them on crutches, clad in a grey bureau t-shirt and a pair of Morgan's gym shorts which they'd found were easy to wear over the cast. Over the last few days his appetite had increased and his wounds had healed considerably, enabling him to hop around the house on his crutches. He took up the empty seat between Prentiss and Garcia and grabbed a cinnamon role from the tray at the center of the table that Rossi had brought. The team had met up at Morgan's to discus the case over breakfast.

"It's nothing, Pretty Boy," Morgan said quickly.

"It's okay, guys. You can tell me," Reid insisted as his bandaged fingers picked at the pastry in front of him. Garcia made a chastising sound and handed him a fork and a napkin.

Hotch seemed to stare at him for a long time before answering. "We wanted to ask you if you'd gleaned anything from your captivity or subsequent attack that might help us in catching Walker."

Reid set down his fork carefully, his expression guarded. The dining room was quiet for several moments before he spoke. "He almost never spoke to me and I only saw his face that time in the hospital."

"We know that, but was there anything else? Anything that might tell us were he might be or what car he might drive?" Emily asked softly.

Reid's face scrunched slightly in thought and they knew that he was delving through his memory. "There was a set of keys on the workbench in the cellar, they were for a Ford sedan."

"Seth Walker drove a Ford Fusion," JJ said quickly.

"Smart money says that he's dumped the car by now," Morgan sighed.

"I don't think so," Reid said almost absently.

"What do you mean?" asked Hotch.

"The keys had a square keychain attached to it. I felt it digging into my thigh later in the hospital," he said evenly. "If he'd kept the car until then there's no reason to think that he wouldn't still have it now."

The team took a moment to digest that fact and to purge their minds of the image that Reid's simple statement had invoked.

"I'll put out an APB," JJ said quietly.

Morgan got himself under control and managed to smile across the table at Reid. "You did good, kid."

Reid returned his smile with a very small, very bashful one of his own before turning his attention back to his breakfast.

It was later that night when Morgan's phone rang. "Morgan"

"There's been a red flag at one of the state border check points we set up" came Hotch's voice. "Walker's trying to flee Virginia, the state troopers are in pursuit."

"I'm on my way," Morgan assured before hanging up. He turned to Garcia who was on her feet and eager for news.

"The bastard tried to leave the state, troopers are in pursuit."

She leaned up on her tippy toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Go. Be careful."

"I always am," He said with a handsome smile before he dashed out of the house.

Garcia locked the door behind him and went to check on Reid who was asleep in the guest room. He was doing significantly better and had livened up at the modicum of independence that the crutches had given him, but he was still healing and slept for about sixteen hours a day. She sank into the chair by the bed and fished out a dime store romance novel from her voluminous pink purse and became engrossed, reading by the dim light of the bedside lamp.

A few minutes later, she was irritatingly pulled out of her passionate literary world by the tingling of her bladder. With a sigh she set her paperback down and set out for the bathroom.

She dried her hands on the soft blue towels that Morgan had furnished his bathroom with. She had to admit that between these sumptuous puppies and the scent of the jasmine hand soap that lingered on her skin, her chocolate god had taste.

She went to open the door to return to her favorite genius but found that the door wouldn't budge.

* * *

Later, when it was all said and done, Reid would say that it was a smell that woke him. It wasn't the sweet and fruity scent that Garcia preferred, nor was it the citrus and spice that was Morgan. No, it was something foreign, yet hauntingly familiar: nervous sweat and autumn, with just the mildest metallic taint of blood.

His eyes snapped open and went wide at the sight of the long bladed knife in front of his face before rising to the figure before him.

"Hello, Spencer."

* * *

Sorry about the cliffy, It's like an adiction. I'll try to get the next chapter out soon.

Thank you to those that were patient with me, I now I took a long time with this chapter

-PancakeMassacre


	13. Chapter 13

Hey guys! We're getting near the end of this story and today's events were determined by a landslide vote by those of you that reviewed. I think the tally was something like 13 to 3. I hope I did you proud!

* * *

Gregory Walkers body tingled with anticipation. He'd been waiting for this for so long, craving him for so long. The prospect of the duel pleasure of taking back his favorite toy and punishing the team that took his brother from him made his mouth salivate with anticipation.

He'd thrown the other agents off his tail by selling his brother's precious car to a crack dealer that had wanted to get out of the DC area before the cops pinned him for a murder wrap. Gregory was sad to see it go but it was all part of the plan that Seth had laid out for him. The FBI would try to stop his car and the dealer would run. It was in their nature to chase after it, and while they were diverted the snake would descend upon the nest.

He'd watched them for weeks, months even, before he'd first taken the boy. He knew their schedules, their habits; so when they circled the wagons around agent Morgan's place he wasn't surprised.

In the cover of darkness he watched the black agent careen out of the driveway, no doubt to chase the stupid drug dealer that Gregory had set up. That only left the colorful plump woman who didn't carry a gun. He went around to the back of the small one story house and picked the lock on the back door. He got frustrated with the deadbolts but the locks finally slid open after a few minutes. Seth had taught him how to pick locks when they were kids, but it was never as easy for Gregory as it was for him.

He crept quietly into the depths of the house. He turned into a hallway and spied light seeping out from a cracked bedroom door and he felt a shiver run up his spine at the knowledge that his prize was just beyond the flimsy barrier. The door suddenly opened and Gregory quickly leapt back around the corner from whence he'd come, heart thundering in his chest as he held his breath. Seth used to tease him about how easy he spooked.

He peaked around the corner and saw the blond lady with the purple stuff in her hair retreat into what he recognized to be a bathroom. That was perfect. He hadn't particularly wanted to hurt her anyways. As he quietly slid a dining room chair under the doorknob of the bathroom, he marveled at how easily it was playing out. It was like god was on his side, wanted him to fulfill his revenge.

He crept back down the hall to the glowing beacon of the guest room and pushed to door open to reveal his target curled up on a comfortable looking bed fast asleep. Knife in hand, he loomed over the young agent and simply watched the beautiful creature. He gently pushed the curly brown locks away from the delicate face with the edge of his blade and felt things low inside of him stir at the sight of the fading bruises on his face, his handy work, and the lily white of the plaster casts on his limbs.

As if sensing his presence the boy began to fidget and his beautiful eyes opened before becoming even more dazzling as they filled with fear at the sight of him. The wide hazel orbs journeyed from the knife in his hand up to his face until their gazes met.

"Hello, Spencer." He said, caressing the knife down the agent's cheek. He trailed the tip down the long slender neck until it rested in the delicate hollow between his collar bones; he pressed the tip into the tender flesh just enough to break the skin. The genius inhaled sharply but didn't put up any resistance.

Gregory sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his knife away and setting it down on the nightstand. He lowered his lips to the small wound at the base of the profiler's throat and gently began to suckle at the thin line of blood leaking from the cut. He could feel Reid's heart beating inside of his tiny chest.

He trailed kisses up the boy's pale neck to suck gently behind his ear before biting down hard enough to draw blood. The younger man hissed and arched slightly but didn't struggle.

Gregory remembered that his toy was still unbound and decided to remedy that. As he was turning to reach for the roll of duck tape stashed in his back pocket, something hard came crashing down on the side of his head. Then, before he could recover, a fiery pain lanced through his right thigh and he fell to the floor in agony.

After a minute he recovered enough to see his own knife embedded in his leg and the bed sheets scattered across the floor, the occupant of said bed having evidently made a desperate dash from the room. Rage suddenly boiled within him and he jerked the blade from his thigh and stumbled towards the door, heedless of the viscous crimson that stained the beige carpet in a thick trail behind him.

* * *

Garcia pounded her fists against the door, but it didn't budge. She'd even rammed her voluptuous hip against it to get to her junior g-man but it hadn't done anything but give her a bruise. When she heard and sharp cry come from down the hall she began to panic. _Damnit!_ She needed to get a hold of the team.

She suddenly remembered that she owned a cell phone and began to frantically pat down her pockets. _Please don't let it be in my purse! _She pleaded to herself. She nearly shouted in triumph when she felt the familiar rectangular bulge of her g-phone in the pocket of her turquoise cardigan.

She hit the speed dial and was nearly bouncing in anticipation as the phone rang.

"Little busy, Babygirl" Morgan answered gruffly.

"Walker's in the house!" she scream/whispered. "He locked me in the bathroom! He's in the bedroom with Reid!"

"What? Garcia we're chasing down his car right now, are you sure?"

"I'm locked in your fucking bathroom and I can hear not so happy voices from down the hall!" she exploded, near hyperventilating in her panic. "You guys need to get here now!"

She could hear the sound of tires screeching against pavement that meant her chocolate knight was coming to the rescue.

"I'll be there in ten minutes, Penelope" he said, his voice tight with determination and fear. "I gotta hang up and call Hotch."

"Please hurry." The line went dead.

* * *

Reid looked up at the creature of his nightmares that hovered over his bed. The brown eyes seemed alight somehow with need and longing. It reminded him of the look of madness that he was used to seeing in his mother's eyes during one of her episodes. But the parallel was flawed because there was something much darker burning in Walker's expression, something bloodthirsty.

The knife gently trailed down his face and to the base of his neck; he'd nearly swallowed his tongue in fear as the blade scraped over the thin flesh at his throat. There was a sharp prick at his collar bone and he fought himself not to jump or struggle. He had a very tentative, very desperate plan.

He eyed Walker warily as he sat on the bed beside him and it took nearly all of his self control not to let his gaze follow the knife to where it rested on the nightstand next to the box of tissues and Garcia's book.

Walker leaned forward and Reid felt his mouth sucking at the small wound at his throat before planting wet open mouthed kisses up his neck. He had to fight down revulsion and nausea and his every instinct that told him to lash out against his attacker, but he forced himself to stay still. He couldn't contain the surprised gasp that escaped from between his teeth when Walker greedily bit into the soft skin of his neck.

Disentangling himself from the genius, Walker turned away to retrieve something from his pocket and Reid made his move.

He smashed the bulky cast on his right hand against Walker's temple hard enough to crack the plaster. He cried out at the unexpected blow but Reid didn't hear it as he scrambled for the knife on the table and drove it deep into Walker's inner thigh. The larger man collapsed in a heap on the floor and Reid tore his way out of bed.

He looked for his crutches but found them on the other side of the room. It was negative distance and he desperately needed to get out of there. He leapt towards the door, his momentum getting him past the threshold and into the hallway where he landed with a cry of pain in the corridor, jarring his broken leg. It was always bad when you could feel the pain over the adrenalin rush.

He grit his teeth and crawled out of the hallway, his bulky casted limbs making the movement awkward and painful. He did some quick profiling on his way to the larger rooms. He would have to remember to apologize later for breaking the team's rule about profiling each other if he managed to survive.

Morgan was an alpha male that compensated for his childhood sexual abuse. This would make him mildly paranoid which would commonly manifest in a slight obsession with security. He'd noted the double deadbolts on the external doors and the top of the line security system.

He knew that Morgan owned another firearm other than his bureau issue Glock, but he'd only been carrying his service weapon this morning so the other had to be here somewhere. And if it was here it would be in the master bedroom.

Reid pushed the master bedroom door open and had only just gotten himself inside the room and the door silently closed and locked behind him before he heard Walker stumble into the hall.

"Where are you Spencer?" He called out to the house with a sneer; the voice was coming from the living room. Reid inched across the room towards the bed, careful not to make any noise as he did so. He found a gun safe under the bed, but needed a combination.

"You can't hide forever!" The voice was getting closer.

Reid pushed a trembling hand through his hair and forced his terrified brain to think. It was the type of safe where the owner set the combination themselves. _Think think think_, he chanted in his head. Then the epiphany came.

Morgan would have chosen his mother's birthday. He took time off to go home to Chicago every year for it. Last year the team had been called in the day after when Morgan had been mistakenly arrested for murder.

He'd punched in the first three numbers when the bedroom door suddenly smashed open, sending shrapnel of wooden splinters onto the carpet. Walker stood in the doorway, his face red and livid. His right pant leg was completely saturated with blood, the material turning almost black with it, and there was a long trail of it following him from the hallway. Reid knew that he'd nicked the man's femoral artery and that removing the knife was allowing him to bleed out. It was probably only pure rage that kept him moving at this point, but at the sight of the bloody knife in Walker's hand, it looked like enough to drag Reid down with him.

Walker was on him before he could blink; his weight crushing down on him as the knife buried itself into Reid's shoulder, both of their blood mingling on the blade as the larger man pulled it from his body.

In a surge of adrenalin Reid kicked Walker off of him and the man landed hard on his ass a few feet away with a thud. Reid quickly turned back to the safe and punched in the last digit, the blood in his hands making his fingers slip on the plastic buttons. The safe clicked open and he quickly grabbed the Beretta.

It was as if everything became slow motion. He saw Walker rise unsteadily to his feet as Reid's blood slicked hands fumbled to rock back the slide of the gun. Walker raised the knife again as the slide finally came forward, bringing a round into the chamber. Reid raised the gun and fired.

For a few seconds it was like nothing had happened. Then the knife clattered to the floor, oddly loud in the post gunshot silence that had descended upon the room.

A small geyser of blood followed the knife to the floor and the room was suddenly filled with choked wet gurgles from Walker as he drowned in his own blood. Reid watched stunned as a gaping wound opened up in Walker's throat, spraying crimson arcs about the room and onto the prone genius.

Reid finally broke from his trance as Walker pitched forward and face planted into the ruined carpet, Reid scrambling backwards to avoid being crushed by the felled giant. He fetched up against the night stand and watched as his attacker's twitching body suddenly became still. Walker's blood pooled at Reid's bare feet.

In a shock induced daze Reid scuttled out into the hallway and continued to stagger past the dining room and into the kitchen. He couldn't feel anything but a strange cold emanating from deep within his bones.

He vaguely heard the front door burst open and shouting before the room was suddenly full of FBI emblazoned Kevlar.

* * *

Morgan slid his key quietly into the locks and turned them until they clicked open. Hand on the knob, he looked over for Hotch's tight nod before quickly thrusting the door open and bursting in, gun drawn. He felt his team follow behind him as he shouted, "FBI!"

There was no reaction to the announcement. The house was quiet.

"There's blood," Emily called, pointing to a heavy trail that led off deeper into the house.

"Oh, god," JJ nearly whimpered. They silently followed the crimson stains, all of them fearing the worst.

"That's a lot of blood, Hotch," Morgan said quietly to his superior, his voice struggling with despair. Hotch was too focused on fighting down his own panic to say anything.

They turned around a blind corner into the kitchen and gasped when the saw their dazed genius leaning heavily against a counter. He was covered in blood.

"Reid!" Morgan called just as the younger agent collapsed. He dropped his gun to the bloody floor and surged forward to catch him, wrapping his strong arms around the crumbling frame. Reid's legs buckled and it took them both to their knees where Reid promptly heaved up his dinner. Morgan held his trembling body as it was rocked by spasms and whispered soothing gibberish as he rubbed his back.

When Reid's stomach was empty Morgan hoisted him up and away from the mess he'd made before lowering him to the floor and turning him onto his back. Hotch joined him at his side and neither man liked the zoned out look in his eyes.

"Reid, come on. Talk to me, man" he pleaded as Hotch cut open the blood saturated shirt in search of injuries. "Where's Walker?"

"Bedroom," Reid slurred quietly.

Emily and Rossi reentered the kitchen with identical grim, yet triumphant expressions. "Walker's dead," Rossi informed them. "And you might need to buy a new bedroom set."

"It looks like most of the blood is his," Emily said hopefully. JJ returned then with a tear stained and frazzled Garcia.

Reid suddenly hissed when Hotch's hand found the stab wound in his shoulder, and it seemed to abruptly bring him out of his state of shock. "Gahhh!" He cried out as Hotch applied pressure to the oozing wound.

"You're all right, Reid" Morgan reassured. "Did he you hurt anywhere else?"

Reid shook his head, eyes clenched shut at the fire radiating down his arm. "J-just my shoulder," he said in a shaking voice.

The paramedics came in then and non-to-gently pushed Morgan and Hotch away from the young man bleeding on the floor. They taped a clean pad of gauss to the shoulder wound and shined a light into his eyes to check for head injury, all the while asking him questions that he weakly muttered answers to. They quickly loaded him up onto a gurney and laid several heavy woolen blankets over his trembling body to ward of the residual chill of shock and fitted an oxygen mask over his face.

"You're gonna be alright, kid" Morgan repeated as he walked with the gurney out to the ambulance, taking Reid's slender hand into his. "I'll catch you later at the hospital." Reid gave his hand a quick squeeze of understanding before he was whisked away into the waiting ambulance and their grasp was broken.

JJ and Rossi followed after the ambulance in one of the black SUVs and Morgan returned to his violated home. He saw Garcia wrapped in a woolen blanket sitting on a couch that had gotten off relatively blood free while another paramedic fussed over her. Their eyes locked as soon as he passed the threshold and she quickly brushed the medic aside and ran into his arms. They didn't say anything for a while; there was nothing to say. They'd all failed at their responsibility to keep Reid safe and it had nearly resulted in catastrophe. But on top of the guilt and the pervasive numbness of shock was a bone sagging feeling of relief that it was finally and unmistakably over.

Morgan pulled back from their embrace and held Garcia at arm's length. "Let the nice medic look you over, babygirl. There's something I've gotta go see."

She looked into his chocolate eyes and nodded. She understood that while this mess was obviously over, it wouldn't feel over until he saw it for himself.

He left her with the paramedic that was examining her for indicators of shock and headed deeper into the house to his bedroom, following the stains that were almost a gruesome reenactment of a trail of bread crumbs.

He looked at the room that had been his bedroom for the last five years and almost didn't recognize it. There were wood splinters scattered across the floor from the broken door than now hung off of one bent hinge. The carpet looked like a macabre impression of modern art and there were crimson arcs of arterial spray spattered across the walls and furniture. He joined his teammates across the room on the other side of the bed where they had gathered around the fresh corps of Reid's kidnapper, torturer and rapist.

"Getting shot in the throat is a painful way to die," Hotch said flatly.

"Not painful enough," Morgan kicked the corpse hard in the ribs. He expected the unit chief to reprimand him, but Hotch remained silent. A long silence descended upon the agents as they stared down at the body at their feet.

Emily surveyed the wreckage of the room. "You might want to just move," she said lightly, breaking the silence.

Morgan looked around the room again. "Yeah, maybe."

"The bureau will cover the damages," Hotch said mechanically.

"Still, I don't know if I want to stay here after…" he gestured down to the cadaver on the floor then around to the congealing blood about the room, "all this happened."

"I know I wouldn't" Emily said flatly. "Do you need a place to stay?"

"I don't know yet" Morgan admitted. "I figured that I'd stay with Reid. His place isn't a crime scene anymore and he'll need some help around the house for at least another week or so. I'll need to find a place to keep Clooney, though." He'd been keeping the golden retriever in the garage while Reid was on the mend, but the pooch couldn't stay here while the house was a sealed crime scene.

"He can stay with me," Hotch offered unexpectedly. "I've got a backyard for him to run around in."

"Okay," Morgan said after sharing a stunned moment with Emily. "Thanks Hotch."

They heard the bluster of more voices as the crime scene techs arrived and the three agents knew that they were in for a long night.

* * *

Hope that was bloody enough for you guys. I got several wonderful suggestions on how to ice Gregory that had me laughing for days.

One more chapter to go. The end is near!

-PancakeMassacre


	14. Chapter 14

At long last the final chapter is here.

* * *

The team finally gathered at the hospital several hours after Reid had left in the ambulance. It had taken the bureau crime scene techs a substantial amount of time to document and sample the massive amounts of blood throughout the house and the agents were only just given clearance to leave the scene. They met JJ and Rossi in the hallway outside of Reid's room.

"What did the doctor say?" Hotch demanded.

"He's got a stab wound to the right shoulder which they stitched up and a bite wound on his neck," JJ informed them. "The doctor also had to replace his casts; one of them was broken and both of them were soaked through with blood."

"But he's going to be okay?" Morgan clarified.

"Dr. Greenberg says he should make a full recovery," JJ reassured.

Morgan muttered a relieved "halleluiah."

"Can we see him?" Garcia asked, seeming almost desperate to see that Reid was okay with her own eyes.

"He hasn't woken up since they put him under to fix his shoulder, but yeah, you can see him," JJ ushered them into Reid's room. He still looked pale, but he looked a hell of a lot better than he had at the house. All of the blood had been scrubbed away and he looked to be sleeping peacefully.

"He hasn't woken up at all?" inquired Emily.

"Not yet," said Rossi "but the doctor says he should be coming out of it soon."

They settled in around their youngest member, taking turns talking to him and encouraging him to wake up from his drug induced slumber. After nearly an hour had gone by, Reid began to stir. His head began to roll weakly on his pillow and the hands that JJ and Morgan held tightened around their fingers. Garcia was brushing her fingers through his freshly washed hair when his eyes peaked open.

"'cia?" he slurred with a raspy whisper.

"The one and only, baby cakes." She took up a cup of water with a straw and held it to his lips. He took a few sips and it helped diffuse the metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

He looked around at the agents surrounding him. "Hey guys," he said weakly with the smallest of smiles.

"How're you feeling, kid?" Asked Morgan.

"Okay," Reid answered honestly. He sent a pointed look to the morphine drip. "A little high."

Morgan's face broke into a grin, relieved beyond words that Reid was still, well, _Reid_. "I'll talk to the doctor about switching you over to codeine."

"Thanks," Reid said as he nestled back against the pillows. He eyed the intense expression that Hotch had fixed on him. "We're going to have to talk aren't we?"

Hotch nodded slowly. "We will. But it can wait until you're feeling more lucid."

Reid's gaze fell to his lap and he nodded his head. "Yes, sir." He then gave Morgan a timid glance, "sorry about your house."

Morgan smiled again. "Don't worry about it, kid. I'm just glad that you're okay."

Reid nodded again before smothering a great yawn. "Looks like pretty boy needs some more beauty sleep" Garcia cooed.

Reid looked like he was about to protest when Morgan interrupted him. "Get some sleep, Reid. We'll be here when you wake up."

The genius gave them a smile that was half amused at how much like a child the team treated him and half grateful that they would be there to chase the nightmares away. His eyes quickly drooped shut and he was out again in minutes.

The team took up chairs that they had stolen from about the hospital and settled in for the remainder of the night, relief finally washing over them in waves of bliss to see their nemesis on a slab in the morgue and their youngest member finally on the mend. They knew that the recovery process was far from over and that there would be many long weeks and months of nightmares, NA meetings and frustration, but after having almost lost their beloved genius, these trials seemed almost more of a reward than a burden.

Eight and a half hours later, Reid woke to see sunshine beaming in through the industrial drapes at his window. He saw Morgan sitting down by the foot of the bed reading a sports magazine.

"Hey," he called. His voice was much clearer than it had been the night before.

"Hey, pretty boy. How're you feeling?"

"Better," Reid said honestly after a brief appraisal. His shoulder, leg and ribs hurt more than they had upon his last waking but a quick glance told him that that was because he was off of the morphine and on a milder non opiate pain reliever. His stomach growled. "Hungry" he amended.

Morgan chuckled, "I'm not surprised. Good thing it's almost lunch time."

Hotch came in then, stashing his cell phone back into the pocket of his suit jacket. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"I'm good," Reid answered again and attempted to sit up in his bed, finding that the sling around his arm made moving around more difficult than he'd anticipated. Morgan came to his rescue and pushed the button that raised the bed until his was in a reasonable sitting position.

Just then a pretty young nurse came in with a tray of food. "Hello, Dr. Reid. Are you feeling hungry today?"

"Starved," Reid proclaimed, blushing slightly when she leaned over him to grab the rolling tray on the other side of the bed, putting her well developed breasts at his eye level. Morgan caught sight of the tint in his cheeks and was somewhat less than successfully suppressing a fit of giggles.

"Alright then, my name is Sarah. Just let me know if you need anything else" she said with a smile after the tray had been arranged.

"Thank you," Reid said quickly as Morgan opened his mouth, no doubt to make a lewd remark at the genius's expense. Sarah left to finish her rounds.

They all turned their attention to the tray of questionable hospital food. "What is it?" Hotch asked with a slight frown at the tray.

"Don't care," Reid answered as he hungrily dug a fork into the mass and shoveled it into his mouth. "I think it's macaroni and cheese" he said after swallowing the bite, then took another. "It's not half bad."

"If you say so, kid" Morgan looked dubious.

Reid continued to eat his mystery meal until he'd nearly cleaned his plate before moving on to the serving of lime jello which he enjoyed thoroughly in spite of Hotch and Morgan's light teasing. When he was finally finished he set down his fork and pushed the rolling tray aside. "So you wanted to talk."

The mood in the room immediately darkened; Morgan shared a brief glance with Hotch. "We need to know what happened last night" Hotch said softly.

Reid bowed his head and allowed his hair to fall forward to obscure his face before nodding.

"Just take your time, Reid" Morgan instructed as he took one of the boy's small hands in his and gave it a squeeze. "We're right here."

"There's no rush" Hotch assured.

"Guys, I'm fine," Reid insisted. He took a deep breath before starting. "I was asleep in my bed, and when I woke up he was standing over me with a knife to my face. He made a small cut right here," he pointed to the band-aid at the base of his neck "then sat down on the bed and sucked on the wound."

Morgan's hand tightened on Reid's slightly as he fought to keep his anger at the deceased party in check.

"Then he… he started kissing my neck, and- and then he bit me." He made a gesture to the right side of his neck where a white bandage was taped to his skin. "I forced myself not to fight him" He explained. "It would only make him tie me up faster and I had a theory that if I just let him have what he wanted, he'd get excited enough to make a mistake." He raised nervous eyes to Morgan's, looking for disapproval on the darker man's face. Morgan gave his hand another squeeze and sent him a reassuring smile.

"Well, uh… It worked" Reid continued. "He set his knife down on the nightstand and turned to get something from his pocket, so I hit him with my cast really hard above his temple" he raised his casted right arm. "Then I grabbed for the knife and stabbed him in the thigh.

"He fell onto the floor and I think he was screaming, so I got out of the room as fast as I could and collapsed in the hallway. I, uh… did some quick profiling and determined that your spare gun was probably in the master bedroom," he sent Morgan an apologetic glance. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it, Kid. I'll give you a pass this time."

"Right. So I got into the master bedroom and managed to close and lock the door before I heard him calling to me through out the house. I'd pushed the first two digits of the combination on the gun safe when he kicked the bedroom door down."

"Wait, how did you guess my combination?" Morgan asked.

"It's your mother's birthday," said Hotch mildly. Morgan stared at the unit chief, eyes wide.

"Am I that predictable?"

"Only to trained profilers that know you well," Hotch assured before turning back to Reid. "You were saying?"

"Um, right. Walker kicked the door down and I saw that there was blood all over him and the knife was in his hand. I figured that I must have hit the femoral artery when I stabbed him and he began to exsanguinate when he pulled it out. Did you know that 43 percent of all stabbing victims are-"

"Focus Reid," Hotch interrupted him.

"Sorry," He apologized before continuing. "He was on top of me before I could blink and he stabbed me with the bloody knife. I- I think I kicked him off me and he landed on the floor a few feet away. I pushed the last digit of the combination into the safe and pulled out your Beretta. Walker had gotten to his feet and was just raising the knife to stab me again when I shot him.

"Nothing happened at first and I was afraid that I'd missed or something," Reid admitted "but then he dropped the knife and there was suddenly blood everywhere and I had to move out of the way so that he wouldn't fall on me. I got up and made it as far as the kitchen before you guys got there." Reid's delicate frame seemed to have lost some tension after having released the burden of his story. He raised his eyes to look at his colleagues; they stared back at him, their expressions shocked and more than a little guilty.

Hotch broke the silence first. "I'm proud of you, Reid. You handled yourself exceptionally well, and I'm sorry we weren't there for you."

That seemed to break the levee that had been only just barely been reigning in Morgan's guilt. "God, Reid, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you." He got angry with himself. "I can't believe I fell for his ruse and left you and Garcia!"

"Its okay, Morgan. You didn't know." Reid attempted to pacify the steaming giant. "And besides I'm an FBI agent too, you know. I can take care of myself."

"You shouldn't have to while you're injured." Hotch's eyes betrayed a similar guilt and self loathing to Morgan's.

Reid sighed. "Guys, I'm fine. None of this was your fault."

"You know that none of this was your fault either right?" Morgan looked him dead in the eye and Reid flinched and looked away. "Reid, look at me. What's eating you?"

"It's just…" Reid began in a small voice, his eyes looking down at his fidgeting hands. "He chose _me_… He raped me… I just feel so… I don't know."

"Reid, what you're feeling is completely normal" Hotch reassured. "You feel emasculated and you're blaming yourself. But you know just as well as I do that what he did has nothing to do with your masculinity and that you have no culpability here."

"I went through the same thing with Carl Buford," Morgan admitted. "But you have to accept that you're not the one at fault and move on, otherwise you're giving him power over you."

Reid nodded as he swallowed thickly and blinked back tears. "You guys shouldn't blame yourselves either."

"Alright, kid" Morgan smiled.

There was a minute comfortable silence before Reid became curious. "How's the case going anyways?"

"Well considering that Walker's dead, pretty well." Morgan said lightly.

"Seth Walker was smart enough to know that he'd eventually get caught, so he set aside cash, fake IDs and detailed instructions on how to duplicate his crimes for his brother. We think that Seth Walker probably planned this whole ordeal as revenge once he figured out we were onto him two years ago" Hotch explained. "Gregory used Seth's car as a decoy to lure us away from you."

"And we fell for it" Morgan said darkly. "He's been moving around under several false identities, but Garcia traced them all down so that we could see where he's been. It looks like he's been stalking us for a while."

"Wow," Reid said finally. "I didn't think we were that interesting."

"Evidently, the Walker's did" Hotch deadpanned.

"I sure as hell feel better knowing that they're both doornails" said Morgan as he leaned back in his seat.

"No kidding," smirked Reid. He only just now felt like he was able to breathe.

Dr. Greenberg discharged Reid the next morning and Morgan took Reid home to his freshly cleaned apartment. Moving around was still very difficult with both the leg cast and the sling so Morgan vowed to stay for the next two weeks until his house was no longer considered a crime scene and was cleaned and repaired. The team stopped by often, usually bringing take-out for dinner, and they all relished in being united again.

Reid was healing steadily and his appetite remained high as his thin body fought to reverse the malnutrition he'd suffered and mend his many injuries. Morgan noticed that he still had dark bags under his eyes but didn't find out why until after a week of staying with him.

He'd woken up from a nightmare of helplessness and a pale bloody body writhing in pain and shot up with a start only to tumble off of Reid's couch onto the hard wood floors with a thud. He shook himself awake and disentangled himself from the blankets. He groaned when he caught sight of the clock that told him it was 2:30 in the morning.

Deciding to take a trip to the bathroom before attempting to sleep again, Morgan padded across the apartment in silent bare feet but stopped abruptly when he noticed that Reid's bedroom light was on. He pushed the door open and found the genius sprawled across the bed, methodically making his way through a giant stack of books. He looked up, eyes wide at being caught.

"Reid," he sat on the edge of the bed, making the precarious stack of books wobble. "Why aren't you sleeping? Is it nightmares?"

Reid shook his head, looking up at him and Morgan couldn't help but turn to putty under the glistening wide eyed gaze. "I just… every time I go to sleep I'm afraid he's going to be standing over me when I wake up" he admitted.

"Aw, pretty boy" Morgan rubbed a hand over the stubble forming on his head. "You can't think like that. Walker's dead, you killed him yourself."

"I know, I just can't get it out of my head."

Morgan looked at him appraisingly for a moment before making a decision. "Come on," he prompted and stood with a hand out to help Reid off of the bed.

Reid looked at him in confusion for a second before accepting his hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet and helped out to the living room and dumped onto the sofa. Morgan went into the kitchen and came back with pop corn and left over pizza from that night's dinner with the team.

Reid accepted a slice gratefully, he seemed to always be hungry lately, and smiled when Morgan turned on the TV and the Star Trek theme song began playing. They only made it through one episode and a quarter of the way through the next one before they were both asleep on the couch, shoulder to shoulder, heads lolling, and nightmare free.

They stayed that way until Garcia let herself in the next morning with breakfast. She spied her two sleeping agents and quickly dug out a digital camera from her purse and snapped a half a dozen photos before heading into the kitchen with the bags of breakfast. The smell of maple syrup swiftly roused the two and they joined her at the kitchen table. Soon the entire team had arrived and they sat around Reid's slightly cramped table over a feast of pancakes.

"Awwww, lookit how cute they are," Emily and JJ cooed at Garcia's camera. Rossi chuckled as he looked over at the picture displayed on the screen.

"What is going on over there," Morgan demanded around a mouth full of pancakes. Garcia held her camera out for the other side of the table to see and Reid nearly choked on his milk. Hotch broke out laughing. "Aw, Damnit, woman!" Morgan groaned. "You'd better not post that on the internet."

"What makes you think I all ready haven't?" Morgan and Reid's jaws dropped. "Just kidding, my lovelies. I'll only print out a few dozen copies and pass them around Quantico."

"Sounds like a plan," Morgan grinned at the she-devil.

"So, Reid," Emily called after suppressing another fit of giggles. "When does the doctor think you'll be able to come back?"

Reid tore his attention away from the incriminating photo. "He says that I should be able to return to light duty in another two weeks and then to field work after I get the cast off my leg in two months."

"Looks like you're gonna be doing everyone's paper work for a while" Morgan joked.

"Looks like," Reid agreed.

"You can hang out with me!" Garcia bounced excitedly. Reid's eyes widened at the thought. It wasn't that he didn't love Garcia, because he did, but the thought of being her gimpy techno cabana boy for two months was enough to strike fear in his soul. Morgan laughed at his expression.

Hotch leaned back in his chair, his stomach full of pancakes, his ears full of laughter and his heart filled with peace. Everything was going to be all right. Reid was recovering and the team was healing, knitting them into an even closer family than they'd been before. He closed his eyes and let the soothing warmth wash over him.

-FINIS-

* * *

I want to thank my reviewers for the amazing amount of feedback I got for this story. You guys are awesome!

Thanks to **insanepersonishappy** for the pancake suggestion. I couldn't resist!

I'm not going to do a sequel for this story, but I am planning a short addendum. It will be morgan/reid slash, so if that doesn't float your boat or you think that it might ruin this story for you, I totally understand. But for those of you that think this story could have used a little romance and some smut then this'll be something for you to check out.

Until next time,

PancakeMassacre


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